


A Snake for Blue

by Cyberra, gatekat, Starsheild (StarRise)



Series: From the Shadows ... Into the Light [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pre-War, Slavery, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberra/pseuds/Cyberra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarRise/pseuds/Starsheild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuity Mashup. Jazz/Prowl, Bluestreak/Idarassi<br/>Bluestreak may be young, but he knows what he wants. What he wants right now is to rescue the strange serpent-mech from a traveling freak show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Snake in a Cage

"You know this is an extraordinarily bad idea, do you not creators?" Prowl asked as he walked by his carrier's side, his younger brother on the far side of their sire. "He will want to rescue them all."

"Just like when he goes to the zoo," Starbright smiled up at her too-serious elder creation.

Not yet in his final frame, Prowl was already running much of the legal and financial aspects of their business ventures. He'd created the exponential success that allowed them to indulge both their creations' every whim, or nearly so. Prowl wanted better upgrades, tactical software and hardware of military grade and better. He liked only a few physical things, but those items he wished to possess were always of exquisite quality. He asked for things rarely, and only when they could be afforded, but it was never a small investment.

His younger brother, only a dozen vorns into his mechling upgrade, was nearly Prowl's polar opposite in every way. Friendly, chatty, endlessly social and with a wandering optic that tended to run to rescuing creatures of every shape, size and temperament from all sorts of situations ... real and imagined.

"Only far worse," Prowl huffed. "The conditions even in the better of these freak shows are deplorable."

"There it is!" Bluestreak squealed in excitement as they came in sight of the entrance.

In the back of the main show area, the prize attraction of the freak show stirred in his cage. Chains rattled as his frame shifted, coils of metal sliding over each other.

A sharp metal prod was unceremoniously jammed between two scales, getting a loud hiss from the captive. Green-flecked yellow optics glared into indifferent red as the freak show's owner, Idarassi's captor, grabbed the chain connected to the serpent-mech's collar and pulled.

"Get out here, you," Backslide grunted. "It's showtime."

Another hiss echoed through the cage. Reluctantly, Idarassi flowed out, trying to avoid the electroprod, resisting every inch of the way.

Outside a crowd had gathered, awaiting entry into the show area. A group of younger mecha were enthusiastically, and loudly, chattering about what they'd heard this particular show included. What had them most excited was some kind of serpent or half-mech. This group was tall, lightly built and with long, intricately designed wings. For a moment Idarassi thought they were in Vos, but the frames weren't Seeker. Not quite.

Without his comm and remote data access systems it was difficult to figure out where he was anymore, but as he glared, hissed and studied the crowd, he was beginning to think this was Praxus, the city of the grounded Seekers.

Among the shocked looks, the youths and adults scrambling away from him, there were two in the middle that captured his immediate attention. One storm grays with a brilliant red and gold chevron and ice blue optics looked at him without any apparent reaction. Steady, unphased, curious without judgment. The other was silver and black with the same brilliant red chevron, only with a silver center. He looked at Idarassi with huge, over-bright blue optics, but there was no fear on his face. Only wonder and ... attraction?

Metal coils shifted as Idarassi reared back almost to the ceiling, trying to pull the chains out of his handlers' hands. Under other circumstances he would have tried to swat them out of the way, but he was well aware of the slave coding they'd had installed in him and knew he would never manage to connect. One of the handlers squawked as he was jerked off his pedes. Then the ringmaster stepped in, using the cover of Idarassi's coils to jam the electroprod between two scales, and the serpent-mech almost collapsed, hissing in pain and helpless anger. 

Subsiding, Idarassi settled into a pile of coils and refused to budge, watching the crowd watch him. It took him a moment to notice a look that wasn't the usual shock and faint revulsion. Turning his helm, absently brushing a few strands of matted, dulled synthetic fiber out of his face, he met that bright blue gaze. Shock, hurt, pity and then ... anger? flashed across youthful features as the silver and gray mechling turned to the adults standing next to him and began speaking.

The older youth, the one colored as a dark storm, joined in the conversation quietly as he pulled a datapad from his subspace. After several exchanges sad blue optics turned back on Idarassi with a resolute expression around them. The others in his group focused on the ringmaster and owner of the show, all three turning calculating optics on the mech.

Idarassi just stayed where he was and watched. He knew what he looked like... Battered scales showing rust all along the edges, filth and grime and debris wedged into sensitive places, old scars showing through here and there and his paint job chipped and flaking. It had never bothered anyone else before, so he couldn't quite understand why these mecha were looking at him that way.

Noting the gaze being turned on him, Backslide shifted slightly. He'd made sure no one could see the electroprod and had hidden it before coming out from behind the half-snake's frame. Steeling himself, he stepped forward, spreading his hands. "Welcome to the show."

"It seems it has already begun," the storm colored mechling spoke. His voice held a deep rumbling roll that matched his colors, as did the dispassionate tone. Despite that, despite not knowing the wing-language, cold disapproval radiated from him strongly enough that those near him shifted uneasily. "That is an impressive beast."

"Caught it out in the Badlands. Never seen anything like it before. Not easy to control, either." Backslide eyed the speaker warily. He had been in this business a long time, and never had anyone reacted like this.

"Can he talk?" the silver and black mechling asked, stressing the mech-status of the term.

"No," Backslide answered firmly.

Behind the ringmaster, Idarassi nodded his own answer. He pointed to his throat, and then mimed something being cut, indicating that his vocalizer had been disabled, rendering him mute.

The younger one's anger flared brightly, but the youth speaking merely met Idarassi's optics briefly.

The crowd parted quickly as the storm colored mech stepped forward. Even one young noble seemed willing to step aside to let him pass. Without any show of fear, or clue that he didn't have the right to do so, Prowl stepped into the ring.

Backslide noted the look, turning to glower at his prize attraction. He met the usual sullen glare, Idarassi's forked glossa flicking out and then back in. The half-serpent only glared at him, giving nothing away.

Sensing movement, the ringmaster reached out to stop the Praxian from getting too close. "I wouldn't advise getting too close to it. It's still a wild animal and can be dangerous."

While he did not physically resist the instruction, Prowl did not heed it either. "I am well aware of how to handle wild creatures," he said simply as he stepped around the stopping hand. "I also have handled enough slaves to recognize the coding when I see it in action. He'll drop into stasis before he could hurt me and we both know it."

Yellow optics narrowed warily as the storm gray mech approached. Idarassi sidled away suspiciously, as far as the restraining chains would allow. A deep, threatening hiss escaped even as he backed up, pulling his coils into a tighter ball.

"See?" Backslide insisted. "Dangerous!"

The rest of the crowd had gone silent, waiting to see what would happen. All optics were fixed on the half-serpent as he reached the limits of his chains and was forced to stop, curled into as tight a ball as he could manage.

"Badly abused, untended, afraid, defensive," Prowl corrected as he stepped closer so Idarassi could feel the calm neutrality of his field. "I very much doubt he's dangerous unless seriously provoked." He pulled an energon wafer from a small subspace pocket and held it up, offering the sweetened treat.

The long, scaled body twitched, scales rippling along his length in clear nervousness. He was still watching the Praxian warily, but that energon wafer had his full attention. It had been a very, very long time since he'd even seen one. Here in the freak show he got the most basic grade of energon, often full of grit and just enough to keep him fueled, with barely any reserves. Slowly, cautiously, he eased nearer, lifting one hand to take the offered wafer.

He felt a flicker of approval from the storm colored mech, though Prowl's features gave away nothing. "He's quite tame, so long as one knows how to behave. Something, perhaps, that you never learned," he focused on the ringleader with ice blue optics.

The treat was gone in an optic-blink, Idarassi licking the last hints of energon from his claws. He regarded the Praxian for a moment, sidling closer, forked glossa flicking out to pick up the strange mech's scent.

"It's an animal, to be trained to obey," Backslide informed him flatly. "Not a mech to be worked with." That got him a particularly rude gesture and hiss from Idarassi, the half-serpent shifting and almost pulling one of his handlers right off his pedes.

"Perhaps, but he is an entity my House will buy from you, for a fair price," Prowl said calmly.

"Not for sale," was the immediate response. Backslide glowered. The creature was the star of the show, what drew large crowds and brought him a large profit. He was loathe to part with the creature despite how difficult handling it could be.

Idarassi's long body shifted sideways, sending one of the handlers skidding. The chain went slack. Rearing back, the serpent mech pulled himself into a ball, waiting to see what would happen next. Yellow optics glared at the ringmaster.

"Then we will pay his fee to the city after they have completed the tests for sentience on all your creatures," Prowl said smoothly. "I doubt it will take more than a hundred vorns. Assuming you are telling the truth, you will be free to leave with them all," he pulled out another wafer and offered it to Idarassi as he continued to speak. "Of course, if I am correct and you captured a fully sentient and sparked free mecha and bound him into slavery without proper documentation or compensation, you will be a guest of the city for much, much longer. Praxus takes a very dim view of unlawful slavery, as I am sure you are aware."

Clawed fingers delicately took the wafer from Prowl's fingers, and it disappeared as quickly as the first had. The handler tried to get close enough to grab the chain again, but a loud hiss sent him scuttling out of the ring entirely.

The ringmaster stiffened. He knew very well that the serpent-mech was fully sentient, had made sure his vocalizer and comms were deactivated in order to hide that. Despite his reluctance to part with the creature, he disliked the thought of imprisonment for illegal slavery even more. "It isn't cheap."

"Neither is a felony record," Prowl countered, well aware of the monetary status of who he was dealing with. "I'll pay you five hundred credits for his ownership codes."

Backslide glowered at him. "That's insulting. It's worth more than _that_."

"It may be a unique specimen, or it may not be. You have no proof either way. We will have to invest many times that just to bring him up to legal standards for us to own," Prowl countered.

"Never have I or anyone else I've ever met seen anything like him before," the ringmaster shot back. "That's what makes him such a draw for the crowds. Fifteen hundred."

Internally Prowl was very pleased. His family regularly spent that much on crystal flowers for the formal family meal each metacycle. This mech had no concept what the serpent-mech was really worth, much less how much Prowl was authorized to spend to acquire him. He allowed his field to touch the serpent's once more, calm reassurance flowing in it.

"It's undernourished, ill-kept, likely with health issues, untrained and difficult to handle. Seven hundred and fifty," Prowl raised his price, hiding his pleasure at the numbers from everyone. His ability to show nothing, feel nothing, when he chose was his greatest asset in business dealings.

Green-flecked optics went from one to the other, Ida's coils tightening slightly. He only looked away when one of the itches plaguing him became too much to ignore, and he turned to dig his claws under his scales in an attempt to ease the discomfort. The appearance of a small glitch-mouse from under his scales got a disgusted hiss and a full-frame shudder from him before he resettled, audial panels twitching.

"Completely unique and larger than most mecha," Backslide retorted. "Thirteen fifty."

"Infested with vermin," Prowl allowed his features and wings to show his disgust and his growing anger even as he shot a look at his younger brother to hold still. The desperation in Bluestreak's wings made Prowl give up the game early, even though he knew he could get the price down a couple hundred credits more. Not even he was immune to his brother's unconsciously used gift. "Eleven hundred, and include his cage."

"Done," the show owner announced after a moment, scowling at the half-serpent, who only glared back. Growling, Backslide gestured sharply to the other handlers, ignoring the loose chain. The promptly began pulling the half-serpent out of the ring, back to where the cages were. He turned to the crowd. "It seems this show is over. Please look around at the other attractions."

With that he faced Prowl. "I'll see your credits before I give you the codes."

"Of course," Prowl canted his wings respectfully, an emotion is did not feel in the least and followed the owner out. "Does the code force him to obey simple commands as well?"

"The code is more to keep him from mauling anyone," the ringmaster growled back. "Those coils are incredibly strong. Just capturing him in the first place cost a half dozen of my best trappers."

Getting Idarassi into his cage usually wasn't an easy task. This time, however, he flowed in with little of his usual resistance, coiling up tightly in the confined space. His unusual compliance didn't stop the handlers from using their electroprods on him just out of sheer spite, chaining him a lot shorter than usual, leaving him barely enough leeway to move. A long, low hiss answered their jeering, clawed fingers curling around the cage bars.

Prowl glanced at Idarassi as they passed by on the way to the owner's trailer home. "I understand. A hauler will arrive within the joor to move him."

The cage rattled as Idarassi threw his weight from side to side as much as he could, sending the handlers scrambling back. He might have slave code preventing him from actually harming anyone, but he was still a large, powerful creature, and no one wanted to get too close. Once they and their electroprods were well away, the half-serpent settled down as comfortably as his restraints would allow. Yellow optics tracked Prowl and Backslide as they passed the other cages and headed for the trailers.

Backslide grunted as he coded open the trailer door, walking inside. It was cramped and cluttered, though some attempt at keeping things straight had been made. Muttering to himself, the show owner dug out a datapad to record the sale, retrieving the chip that contained the owner codes for the half-snake.

As he did so Prowl withdrew a credit stick, transferred the eleven hundred credits to it from his primary one and handed it over. "If you wish to check that it is good, I will not be offended."

Refraining from making a comment that would probably come out rude, Backslide ran the check. It was something he did as a habit anyway, not wanting to be ripped off. That had happened to him before, and it had been a bitter sting for a long time. Once the credits came up clean, the show owner grunted again, then handed the chip to Prowl. "These are the ownership codes," he told the Praxian, the surliness in his voice audible even to himself. "He's all yours."

Prowl canted his wings in farewell and walked out. He was not the least bit surprised to see his brother standing at the cage feeding their new pet/slave energon wafers, their creators standing a couple paces back and simply watching indulgently. He walked up to his sire and spoke softly. "Eleven hundred credits, with the cage."

He paused as the surprise passed through the older mech. "Perhaps we can try to keep Bluestreak occupied with his new project and not wandering the show? I intend to see what I can see for Streetwise and Barricade."

Darksky canted his wings in agreement and watched his eldest go off to collect evidence before returning his attention to his youngest and the strange creature they would be rehabilitating this vorn.

The chains prevented Idarassi from moving very far, though he was able to shift his upper frame closer to the bars. Green-flecked optics took in the young Praxian curiously, forked glossa flickering out to sample the air, trying to catch a scent. Though the overlying reek of the backstage area it wasn't easy. Clawed fingers delicately accepted each wafer, which then vanished with a speed that indicated just how hungry the half-serpent was. After a long moment, one hand came up to point at the Praxian, Idarassi making a curious sound as best he could.

"I'm Bluestreak," the youth chirped happily, his smile glowing as brightly as his optics and the pleasure in his field. "I knew you were smart. My brother is Prowl, he's the one that did all the talking. Those are our creators," he motioned with a hand holding a wafer to the adults standing just a bit back, but without fear for themselves or their mechling creation. "Starbright's our carrier, and Darksky our sire. We'll get you talking in no time. The transport should be here any breem now. I'm sorry you can't come right to the house, but carrier insists that everything I bring home gets a full medical and de-infestation before it can come onto the property. Our vet is really nice, and he'll be honest with us. Try to be nice to him, okay? He really does just want to make you feel better, even if the poking, injections and baths aren't fun. It really is so you'll be healthy enough to recharge in a real berth. Though we'll have to order one built for you. I think you'd be too heavy for anything we have in a guest room."

Idarassi mouthed the name, frustration crossing his face at his inability to talk. At the mention of a bath, utter relief replaced the frustration. Clearly he had been denied one for quite some time, probably longer than he'd actually been a captive. Nodding to show that he understood and would cooperate if it meant getting clean and out of the cage, his optics tracked on the wafer in Bluestreak's hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the mechling quickly offered the wafer. "You must really be hungry. I mean, I love these but I can't eat nearly this many in a row without getting dizzy. So you're Iderass? I'm sorry, I probably mangled your designation, but you can tell me when the vet is done repairing you. I'm Bluestreak," he offered another wafer.

The serpent mech blinked, then extended one claw to scratch a series of glyphs into the floor in front of the cage: 'Call me Ida. Easier to pronounce.' Writing upside-down presented a minor problem, but he managed.

"Ida," Bluestreak nodded as a young worker, one of the creations of the crew, came up to Starbright with four cubes of good energon. 

She thanked him and gave him a full energon credit chip after her mate took possession of two of the cubes and she took the other. The youngling gave Idarassi a wary look and ran off to some other chore. The wary look was returned with a neutral stare, Idarassi's optics following the youth as he left. 

The scent of energon drew his attention back to the femme, glossa flicking out to catch more of it. With a gentle smile she walked up to the cage bars and offered one of the cubes to Idarassi. "I understand you are very, very hungry," her voice was low, soft, gentle and full of welcoming warmth and the softly voiced promise of a powerful matriarch that rarely found need to yell to have her way. "Do try not to gulp it. It will not be taken away, and you will not be hungry in our charge. Manners will be important if you are to remain in our home for long."

Giving Starbright a look of gratitude, the half-serpent accepted the cube, maneuvering it through the bars into the cage. Despite his hunger, he drank the liquid energy slowly. Considering how long he'd been existing on the barest amount of fuel, his systems were not used to this much or anything of this grade, and not taking it slow would result in him being very sick.

"Good, Ida," she said his shortened designation with all the care she would any visitor to her home. "We will have a good, long talk once you have your voice back, full tanks and no pests. Do cooperate with the haulers," she motioned to a large truck-mech in alt mode that was carefully driving up. "The vet and his staff. It will be worth the trouble."

The big mech nodded to her, indicating that he would cooperate. Settling as best he could with the chains still holding him down, he continued to sip at the energon, claws firmly hooked around the cube. 

"Can I go with him, please carrier?" Bluestreak turned pleading optics on her. "Please? I can help keep him calm and explain things. I know how to help with bathing and giving shots too, and feeding."

She laughed lightly, her voice and smile bright and honestly amused. "Yes, dear. Go with him. I expect you home before your recharge time, whether or not the vet is finished with Ida."

"Yes, carrier," Bluestreak promised, accepting the cube of energon from his carrier. He turned to Idarassi and reached through the bars to pat a serpentine coil while his creators spoke to the transporter, then went off to find their elder creation. Scales shifted slightly at the pat, caught between pressing into the touch and pulling away from it. It had been a long time since anyone had touched Idarassi without the intent to cause damage. Adjusting would take a while.

Idarassi held still while the cage was loaded, not wanting to shift and throw off the weight distribution. Once the cage was in place and locked down for transport, he shifted to lean against his own coils, eager to be away from the freak show that had held him prisoner for far too long. Bluestreak settled in the cab for the drive, nearly a joor long, to the outlaying areas of Praxus where there was open land. Though the young mechling was no longer talking to him, Idarassi could hear him talking. It seemed an almost compulsive response to silence, but it was a nice voice that talked of nice, if random, things.

The freak show had moved him in a covered, enclosed hauler, leaving him unable to see the scenery outside. Idarassi shifted in his cage, taking in all there was to see and tasting the scents the winds brought him. It was almost a sensory overload, with the wind over and under his scales and the sheer amount of scents carried on the breeze.

The cage was unloaded in the central yard of a sprawling U shaped building and the hauler left, leaving his cargo and passenger behind.

"Hi Doc," Bluestreak waved a welcoming greeting to the mid-sized general frame painted red and white. "Can we get the chains off him now? He promised he'd cooperate, and we're sure he's sentient."

"Yes, your creators pinged me with all the details," Fix-it smiled at his frequent and favored customer, then focused on the serpent mech. "So you are Ida?"

In the central yard of the vet clinic, it was the sound of a strange voice that brought the serpent-mech's attention back from investigating his surroundings. He blinked at the newcomer, taking in the vivid red markings, then nodded in answer to the question. One claw picked absently at the collar secured around his neck, the chain attached to it rattling.

"Yes, we will get the chains off you," Fit-it promised. "Do you have the keys?" he glanced at Bluestreak.

"Umm, no..." he looked sheepish.

"Not a problem," the vet looked back at Idarassi. "We'll need to cut them off then. Are they rigged with anything dangerous to you?"

Idarassi shook his helm. As far as he knew they were just ordinary chains. His captors had used brute force and electroprods to control him rather than a shock-collar or anything similar.

"That makes it much simpler then. "Now, Ida, this does mean we'll have to use cutters very close to your person. I can put you in stasis for the duration, if you prefer."

The expression on Idarassi's face clearly said he was not thrilled about the prospect of being put in stasis. Huffing softly, he shifted as much as he could to provide easy access to all of the places where the chains attached, then held very still, not even twitching an audial panel.

"All right," Fix-it nodded, signaling a couple of his assistants to come out. They brought cutting tools, both saws and torches, with them and handed a torch to Fixit. "We'll be careful," he promised as he lit his torch and went to work on the collar.

Idarassi held perfectly still, yellow optics watching everything that was going on. There was barely even a flinch at the heat against his throat cables. He just wanted those chains off. True to his word, it didn't take them long to remove the chains and cut the door lock open.

All three medics backed away.

"If you would come out, Ida," Fix-it requested. "We can begin with the bath, if you'd like."

Air hissed through Idarassi's vents in a clear sign of relief once the chains were off. Twitching his audial panels, he eased out of the cage, visibly perking up at the mention of a bath. Out of the cage and no longer coiled into a ball, it was clear just how big he was, and just how bad a condition he was in. Flakes of paint and rust drifted off his frame, and he was leaving a trail of grime flaking out from under his metal scales. Clearly a bath was desperately needed.

"Oh Primus," one of the techs whispered in horrified shock. "How could _anyone_ allow a pet to get in such condition?"

"It was the freak show," Bluestreak piped up. "You'll probably see a lot more of their exhibits soon. It was bad."

"Right," Fix-it gathered himself. "Come, Ida. We have a pool large enough for you and all the help you'll accept. It's usually used for bathing multiple mounts at a time. We understand if you don't want anyone to help, but it would go much faster and deeper if you can accept the help."

The half-serpent nodded, gesturing for Fix-it to lead the way, gliding after him. Every now and then he had to pause and scratch at an itch, hooking a claw under the edge of a scale to get at whatever was causing the itch. Once he spotted the pool, it was impossible to even try to keep him away from it. Submerging as completely as he could, he puffed out his scales to allow access to the metal mesh underneath, where the worst of the grime was caked.

His entire frame released the pleasured groan as the cleansing liquid flowed and flooded into parts of him that hadn't felt cleanser in far, far too long.

Bluestreak was the first to him, with brushes in hand. He gave Idarassi one and a bottle of cleanser before going to work himself.

"You're going to feel so much better when you're clean, free of rust and with fresh paint," the youth began to chatter about whatever came to his processors. His field was happy though as he stood in the chest deep cleanser and put himself to work.

The half-serpent smiled at him, then went to work on his upper half, picking at the matted tangles in his synth-fiber mane. Clotted dirt reluctantly came loose, revealing black and bright blue. He scrubbed hard at his torso, trying to get the rust off the edges of his plating.

The amount of grime built up under his scales was starting to turn the cleaner black, sludge building up on the bottom of the pool. A couple more glitch-mice swam out from under his scales, trying to climb out of the pool. Fortunately there didn't seem to be any other parasites or hitch-hikers lurking on his frame, just signs of neglect and ill treatment.

A tech helped the mice to dry land before returning to scrubbing. Jets in the pool turned on, creating a gentle but steady flow of new cleanser to replace the old, and to pull away the grime that had come up. Three breems in an additional two techs came out to help, making it six mechs working on the snake body and Idarassi working on his mech frame.

"Scrub your back?" Bluestreak offered.

Bubbles streamed from submerged air vents as Idarassi let out a soundless moan of bliss at the feel of the jets against his frame. Audial panels shifting at Bluestreak's question, the half-serpent nodded and shifted to give the Praxian access to his back.

More and more of the grime peeled away, giving the techs a better look at his serpent half. Under his scales was a layer of metal mesh, almost like chainmail, to which the scales were attached. Cables and sensor wires threaded up into the scales through the mesh. It was the mesh that allowed Idarassi to be so flexible, shifting and flexing in ways solid armor just couldn't, and kept debris out of his inner systems while the overlapping metal scales provided protection. In some places the mesh had been designed to part, granting access to his internals.

"Fascinating construction," Fix-it murmured as he scrubbed, mentally cataloging what needed to be repaired or replaced. "Ida, roll over please."

The long body rippled under the surface of the cleanser, then Idarassi turned over onto his back to expose the larger scales of his underside. These were the scales that he actually used for movement. Filth was caked under them, so much of it that the scales were unable to fold flat to his frame. Most of the paint, noticeably lighter than his back, was gone, the edges of the scales rusted and coming apart.

The crew went to work again, repeatedly pushing his frame under the surface to help loosen the encrusted debris as they pulled, scrubbed and chipped it away. Though everyone was careful, every so often a larger or sharp chunk coming out caused Idarassi to flinch slightly.

A full-frame flinch and a silent hiss, indicated by streams of bubbles from Idarassi's vents, accompanied the discovery of one such piece of debris, wedged at an angle under one of the larger scales. It turned out to be the broken tip of an electroprod, jammed through the underlying metal mesh and caught in the sensor net beneath it. From the amount of corrosion it had been there for vorns. Idarassi held as still as he could while it was extracted, optics flaring with pain.

"It's almost out," Bluestreak stopped scrubbing to turn his full attention to soothing Idarassi. His hand reached up to stroke the mech's chest, his voice going into auto-babble mode of reassuring words until Idarassi settled again with a full-frame shudder of relief at the extraction of such a long-term irritant.

"Do you know who did this?" Fix-it asked with forced calm.

Yellow optics turned to meet Fix-it's. Idarassi nodded, indicating that he did know who had done it. He slowly flexed that scale, testing the mobility. A thin trail of energon leaked from the wound for a brief klik before stopping.

"The freak show?" Bluestreak asked, his voice trembling slightly at the sight of the energon.

"It's a minor wound," Fix-it reassured the youth. "Painful and I'm going to go in and clean it out completely when we do the repairs, but if it hasn't caused him to deactivate yet, it won't in the next few orns."

Bluestreak's question got another nod. Idarassi used his hands to mime a trap snapping shut, meaning it had been one of the freak show's trappers that had done it, when he had been caught. That prod tip had been wedged there for at least a century.

The rest of the bath, nearly three and a half joors long in all, passed in relative silence. Bluestreak chatted about anything and everything, always upbeat, his voice a soothing blanket around Idarassi's processors as he luxuriated in the warm flowing solvent and the attention that he'd never experienced before.

The half-serpent responded as best he could when he could, but otherwise was content to just listen. It had been a long time since anyone had actually talked to him rather than talking at him. Metal scales flexed, pushing cleanser through the mesh underneath, flushing grime out of his inner systems. His field clearly reflected just how relieved he was to be clean.

When he emerged from the pool, joors later, he was in much better condition than he had been going in. The rust rimming his scales was gone, though some of his underbelly scales had been so badly corroded they'd all but completely disintegrated once the caked-on filth had been removed. His paint, though faded and badly chipped, had been revealed as a base color of deep gray, lighter silver-gray along his underside, with irregular patterns of spots and stripes in shades of dark blues, greens, and purples along his back.

Bluestreak bounded out of the pool to join him. "Will you be all right staying here tonight? I really have to get home. Carrier is going to worry if I'm gone too much longer. Really I should have left two breems ago, but I wanted to see you finished cleaning. The doc and his team are great mechs. You'll be safe here."

Idarassi took a moment to contemplate the question, gaze flicking over the vet and the techs, then he slowly nodded. Being clean was great, but being fully repaired and able to speak again would be better, and that meant he would be spending a lot of time at the clinic. Shifting slightly, he smiled at the Praxian, making a shooing gesture.

"I'll be back in the morning," Bluestreak promised before he transformed and drove off.

"I hope you don't mind recharging on soft shavings in the barn for livestock," Fix-it said with a bit of embarrassment as he motioned Idarassi to follow him. "It's the only space we have big enough for you. We have some thermal blankets to make up for the scales and dirt you're missing. I'd like to start the serious repair work in the morning."

The serpent-mech followed, taking in as much of the facility as he could see along the way. Once in the barn, he lost no time in burrowing into the shavings, arranging his coils into a pile, upper half leaning against the uppermost loop of his frame. Idarassi obviously had no objections to the accommodations; they were superior to anything he'd had to endure for Primus only knew how long.

As Fix-it watched him settle with open fascination, one of the techs came in with an armful of blanks topped with a cube of energon and put them in the corner of the large double stall usually used for difficult separations and twins that couldn't be far apart. The only other resident of the barn was already deep in recharge in the far end.

"The energon is standard grade, but heavy with supplements," Fix-it told him. "Try to drink slowly, but consume it all by morning. If you need something, there's always someone on duty with medical training. Just try not to startle Casperima," he motioned to the riding beast in recharge. "It's partial to bolting when startled."

Idarassi nodded his understanding. He mimed recharging, indicating that what he needed most at the moment, besides fuel, was rest. Uncurling enough to reach the blankets and the cube, he moved them closer, tucking some of the blankets over where he was missing scales. Picking up the cube, he gestured his thanks, taking a long drink before settling back down. He was aware when the pair left, apparently willing to trust that he'd be there in the morning, and he wouldn't eat their other large patient like more than a few scared creators had thought he'd do to their younglings.

* * *

Jazz hummed softly as he made his way down the hall to his lover's office. His performance had been well received by the after work crowd gathered at the local club, well enough so that it had earned Jazz an invite to return to sing again. Content, the slender mech intended to poke his helm and see how the Praxian's family outing had gone before washing off the slick show polish and spending the rest of the orn relaxing.

He didn't really bothering with knocking when he reached the closed door, the few taps of his knuckles more of an announcement and warning of his arrival than a real request to enter. One look at his lover, helm down, optics on low, two-panel wings pulled tight to his back, and he knew things had not gone well. He had little doubt that Prowl was even seeing the datapad in his hands.

Quiet grace carried the dark frame into the office, Jazz speaking up as the door closed as not to startle the other mech. "Prowl?"

Sensor wings snapped open as Prowl's helm came up and his ice blue optics brightened to the normal level. The smile was forced, but Jazz knew it meant Prowl thought enough of Jazz's feelings to make the attempt at a warm greeting.

"How did your show go?" Prowl asked as he stood to greet his lover, only a few vorns younger than himself.

"Much better than I am guessing your orn went." Jazz responded, wrapping his arms around the Praxian as his field reached out, full of warmth and affection.

Prowl willingly sank into the embrace, his lover's field and all it offered. "Have you ever been to a freak show?" he asked softly, soaking in the support he badly needed right now to offset how disturbed he was.

A small shiver ran through the mech holding him, speaking far more than the words offered. "They used to pass through on a regular basis. Yes, I was taken to one. To make a point, I think."

"I can't say if this was better or worse than average, but it was bad enough to break almost every abuse law we have. Including Bluestreak's new rescue. A mech the owner insisted was a mechanimal enough he sold him for eleven hundred credits. I don't think he realized that I was already uploading a report in progress to the Enforcer's system as we negotiated. I knew such things existed, that such mecha existed. This was the first time I'd witnessed it first hand."

The dark colored mech in his arms sighed, nuzzling gently at Prowl's neck in comfort and understanding of a much darker world than his lover had ever seen. "It is reality love." He murmured, as much as he did not want to admit to Prowl. "Some of the shows are that- mere entertainment where the mecha are paid under contract. Others...are not much better than traveling slave and mechanimal traders with owners out to make a pure profit."

Prowl nodded, his sensor wings quivering faintly. "Ida will be moving in, at least for a while, once he gets cleared by the vet," he pulled himself together and tugged his lover towards the desk to show him the picture he'd taken of the mech-snake-mix rearing up. "Barring serious complications, he should be able to speak and fully repaired when you meet him, but this is what he looks like now."

The darker mech's visor flashed, though his field radiated curiosity more than anything else. "Interesting frame type. Never seen that before." He took the image to study closer, noting all of the evident abuse and neglect even if his expression never wavered. 

"He is supposedly unique, captured between the cities," Prowl nodded.

"And Bluestreak convinced your creators to bring him home." He said, considering. 

"Have you ever tried to tell my dear brother no?" Prowl actually chuckled, leaning lightly against his lover. "Carrier set down the rules when he was still a sparkling. They'll apply to this mech until we can prove he's a mech and not a mechanimal."

"I would bet that his master did not wish to part with him. Probably his star attraction?" Jazz nodded, well familiar with the younger one's gift for getting what he wanted by making others want to give it to him. It was a fascinating talent, one simply begging to be abused, only Bluestreak still had not lost track of his morals to the point he was confused by suggestions of how it could be abused.

"Yes, though he was very much afraid of Ida, the handlers were even more so. I believe it was the reminder of just how many laws he was breaking that got him to sell. I'm still rather amazed he went so low. Carrier spends more on crystal flowers for the family meal than I did for a life."

"And it had nothing at all to do with your negotiating talents." Jazz teased, turning his helm to kiss his lover lightly. "Do they have any idea when he will be repaired enough to return home?

"Maybe a little," Prowl conceded with a slight smile that was for real this time. "Based on what I saw, several orns. Just getting him clean enough to properly assess and his energon reserves up to surgery levels will take until morning at least. Which means I really have no excuse for fixating on him or the case now that you are back," he claimed a tender but lingering kiss as his hands slid down Jazz's frame. "Why don't _we_ get this show polish off you so you look like yourself for supper?"

"I do think that might be the best idea I have heard all orn." Jazz replied, claiming another kiss from his lover as he leaned into the touches, willing to encourage anything that would distract Prowl from his discomfort.

Beneath the cool exterior that he tended to present to the rest of the world really was a very affectionate and tactile mech in private, one that Jazz was coming to love more with each passing orn.

"Good," Prowl purred softly and stepped backward, drawing his lover along so they could remain in the embrace and trading kisses all the way to the washrack they shared along with the berth.

Hands that had learned his frame well and quickly traveled along plating in long strokes that did nothing to interrupt the flow of movement until they reached the washrack and Jazz backed his lover against the wall. He felt surprise flicker in Prowl's field for a moment, then a burning flare of raw desire as his mouth was claimed and elegant sensor wings flared on display against the cool metal surface.

Jazz tilted his helm to nuzzle at Prowl's neck as the kiss broke. "You know how much I love your wings."

"Yes," the Praxian moaned shamelessly, tilting his helm back to offer more of his throat to his lover as his valve cover slid open almost soundlessly. "I love your fascination with them." His hand reached between them to slide delicate fingers along Jazz's spike cover.

The gentle laugh was full of warm affection as Jazz reached out run his fingers over the wing surfaces, purring at the feel of smooth plating under his touch as his spike cover slid away in answer the searching fingers. Prowl moaned at the stroking, the pleasurable sensations echoing through his sensor net to enhance his response to the feeling of his lover's smooth, warm spike sliding between his fingers and against his palm.

"Love you," Prowl shuddered in arousal and desire. He usually liked to draw the foreplay out, extend the pleasure until they couldn't stand being on the edge any longer before plunging into the fierce heat of the interface. Tonight, though, he only wanted the bliss to wash away his stress as quickly and hard as possible.

The soft sound that escaped the slender mech was evidence of how much those simple words, backed by the knowledge that the mech saying them truly meant them, meant to Jazz.

Strong hands tweaked Prowl's wings as Jazz claimed another kiss and rolled his hips into the touch on his spike with clear intent.

Another, stronger shudder passed through Prowl at the sensation and its associated memories. He moaned into Jazz's mouth and shifted to press more of his weight against the wall before hooking a leg around his lover's hips and guiding that simple spike he enjoyed so much to the opening of his valve.

"Beautiful." Jazz praised as his spike slid into the waiting valve in a single, smooth motion. He moaned softly at the feel of the tight, slick warmth and the welcoming arousal in his lover's field. Strong calipers and the flexible valve lining almost coated with sensors tightened around his spike as Prowl all but keened in welcoming relief at the swelling pleasure.

Prowl's hands ran down Jazz's back, seeking, searching, returning to already familiar points that made his lover moan. He needed this, wanted it, but more than the simple pleasure he could have easily bought, he wanted the affection and desire for _him_ that only Jazz could offer. It was affection and desire that was willing given; Jazz only sought the same in return. 

Jazz started to move, hips rolling in a strong steady motion to hit as many sensors as possible with each stroke. Strong hands found Prowl's wings once more, indulging them both as nimble fingers found every sensor and crevice that Jazz could reach.

"Yesss," Prowl moaned, his valve tightening around that welcome slide as he rocked his hips into his lover's motions. It felt so good to be cared for this way and he sent a silent thanks to Primus for creators who had done so much to protect him from false affection and show him how good a relationship could really be. He knew they'd have to work at keeping it this good, but every time Jazz embraced him he was reminded it was worth all the work and far more. "Love you Jazz."

"Thank you." Love flared in Jazz's field as his hands slid down to grasp Prowl's hips and allow him thrust deeper and harder, seeking the release they both wanted and he could feel Prowl needed. It was only a couple kliks before Prowl's helm rolled back with a ragged groan and his grip tightened around his lover.

"Close," he whispered, his frame shaking as energy began to dance through his circuits and across his plating. He could have held this off for a couple of breems if he'd wanted to, but tonight he wanted the overload and embraced the rising charge.

"Good." His lover rumbled, helm lifting to lavish attention on Prowl's neck once more. A gentle nip, more holding than biting a main power line and Prowl roared his release into a keen of pure bliss. His field flared sharply, full of energy to share and desire for the mech with him that went well beyond anything physical.

It was energy that was eagerly accepted and returned as it pushed his lover into a matching state of bliss, Jazz's frame locking from the charge and pinning the Praxian against the wall.

Shudders of pleasure energy continued to rock Jazz's frame and pass between them as Jazz released the hold on his lover's neck and kissed the spot gently. Gradually the pair came down from their high with several sloppy kisses and sounds of pleasant relief.

"Needed that," Prowl murmured, nuzzling his lover as they slid apart.

"Anytime." Jazz responded, unable to hide a smile as his fingers ran over the polish transfers now adorning Prowl's frame. "Let me wash that off?"

"As long as I can wash the rest of it off you," Prowl smiled and leaned in for another kiss as he reached to turn on the warm solvent shower. "I hope you're ready to have your audials chatted off. My brother is going to be insufferably excited tonight."

"I don't mind listening to your brother chatter on." Jazz said, reaching for a scrub and the special additive that would help lift the polish. "Like you said, who can deny him?"

"No one I know of," Prowl chuckled as he poured more of the scrub on a cloth and began to rub the glittery polish from his lover, starting with the short, blunt sensor horns.

The touch made his lover melt, Jazz moaning as his optics went dim and his efforts to remove the gleaming streak of gold transfer he had been scrubbing at slowed noticeably.

"I love how to react to this," Prowl whispered in Jazz's audial as he kept his touch firm but gentle in a steady circle. "That it feels so good but doesn't really get you wound up."

"Going to have scrape me up off the floor when I melt if you keep that up." Jazz mumbled, the same threat he made every time that Prowl went after his sensor horns like that.

"All the easier to get the rest of this silly glitter off you," Prowl chuckled, though his still moved inward to work on the top of his lover's helm with the same exacting care he gave everything.

Jazz hummed as he pressed into the touch for a moment before finally focusing back on what he was supposed to be doing and removing the streak of gold splashed across his lover's chest plates.

"Need to have something to make me stand out when I am on stage." He quipped back, tone full of affectionate teasing.

"I think you underestimate your personality," Prowl gave the nearest sensor horn a soft kiss before his hands moved to very carefully clean Jazz's face. "And how striking you look in this city of wings."

"Not exactly the city standard, am I?" Jazz asked, one hand reaching out to brush along a wing and Prowl's glistening chevron in comparison to his own simple, slender blue and black frame.

There was still a small amount of wonder that the beautiful Praxian before him was attracted to him, someone of lower class from one of the lowest of Cybertron's cities.

"No," Prowl shivered faintly at the touch and feelings behind it, though his hands were steady and tender in their work. "Though it was never your looks that drew me, or kept me."

His lover leaned in for a kiss, careful to no cause any more transfer to the areas he had already cleaned before returning to the mutual scrubbing, removing the evidence of his orns works and their much needed fun.


	2. Waking to a New World

Systems began booting up, one at a time, in slow, precise order, medical overrides keeping it slow and steady, making sure everything warmed up properly. His optics had yet to reactivate, though messages were already scrolling across Idarassi's HUD, informing him of the lengthy list of repairs that had been done on him.

Proximity sensors and scent receptors told him that there were two mecha nearby. One of them bore the scent he associated with the medic, Fix-it. It took a moment for him to place the other as belonging to the young Praxian, Bluestreak. The serpent-mech's field cautiously extended to brush against theirs. Fix-it seemed very pleased, though exhausted. Bluestreak was excited and happy.

Idarassi's sensor net came fully online, clearly relaying the aching of new parts and extensive repairs. They would be a while integrating fully, as his internal repair system had been only partially functional for vorns and would need time to get back to fully functional status. In the meantime, he would have to deal with the aches. A groan escaped his newly repaired vocalizer, startling him into jerking sideways.

Bluestreak reflexively tried to rush forward to support him, but Fix-it stopped him. "You aren't that strong, mechling. He's in no danger on the floor."

"All right," the youth said unhappily. "That doesn't look comfortable though."

"It's better than having him draped mostly off a table," Fix-it chuckled.

Green-flecked yellow optics finally came online, blinking several times. Scaled coils shifted as he moved into what, for him, was a sitting position, braced against the wall. "Feels weird." His voice, though raspy from disuse, was a pleasant tenor, slightly odd coming from a creature his size.

"I bet ... oops, sorry, please don't tell my creators I said that, Smokey would get in trouble. Again," Bluestreak babbled. "Anyway, you'll get used to it. I think you'll have a very nice voice when you get used to using it again."

"Indeed," Fix-it nodded. "Any errors?"

An optic rim lifted in Bluestreak's direction. "Will take some getting used to... It's been vorns since I was last able to speak." Shifting into a more comfortable position, Idarassi ran a quick systems diagnostic. "No errors that I can see. Feeling better than I have in a long time."

"Good, and I don't doubt you are. It didn't look liked you'd ever seen regular maintenance," Fix-it said. "Bluestreak knows you'll need extra energon for the first decaorn so your self-repair can catch up and fully integrate all the new parts. I've already given him my full documentation on your systems, repairs and damages for the family medic and if this case goes to court. Do you have any questions before I turn you both loose?"

"I've never been seen by a medic, ever." Scales rippled along the length of Idarassi's frame. The rasp was clearing from his voice, revealing an underlying hiss to his speech. He gave Fix-it a curious look. "Court?"

"If you are proven to be sentient, then your former owner broke some serious laws," Fix-it said. "Your condition also brings up likely charges of animal abuse."

"When my brother left he started to record the conditions of every creature he could find," Bluestreak added. "You weren't the only one in bad shape. Streetwise led a raid on the show the night we bought you, just after closing. They're in trouble. It's just a question of how much."

A long, low hiss escaped Idarassi as he considered that. "It would serve him right. Slagger would put out only minimal effort to maintain his captives. There are a lot of deactivated mechanimals and mecha in his wake, hidden where no one would think to look."

"If you know where any of the mecha are we might be able to add to the charges, especially if any came from Praxus or were deactivated in Praxus," Bluestreak perked up, eager to pile on as many charges as possible.

"I was kept in my cage when not in the ring, so I never actually saw where the remains were dumped. Mostly out in the empty stretches between cities along the Badlands. With my positioning system disabled along with my comms I had no way of marking the locations. I'd know the scent of the places if I ever passed them again, but I'm not sure where they are." Idarassi shrugged helplessly. "I do recall that there was one Praxian, an exhibit like I was. He'd been in some bad accident. Half his body was melted, other side looked fine. He died of fuel poisoning from the gutter-slime the ringmaster fed us."

Bluestreak shuddered, a whimper escaping as his wings pulled close to his frame in sympathy for the unknown victim. "Did he every say anything, or any hint you heard of who he was or where he was from? A district, or maybe someone else's designation?"

The half-serpent shook his helm. "I never caught his designation, and he didn't talk much. He mumbled about some big explosion, being caught by molten steel. The place where his frame was dumped smelled of rust and old oil, industrial-type. Some kind of abandoned mine, near a stagnant oil pond."

"That should be enough to start searching for an ID and the frame. The Enforcers might have more questions later," Fix-it said smoothly, stopping Bluestreak from asking more questions on the subject. "Do you have any questions before I turn you both loose?"

The big mech shifted position, considering, then shook his helm. "Not at the moment. Thank you for repairing me."

"You are welcome," Fix-it smiled at the strange creature he'd just spent nearly four orns repairing and replacing parts in. "Enjoy having an existence worth booting up for."

"Come on, Ida," Bluestreak grinned and darted outside to transform.

"I don't think he's grasped that you don't have an alt mode," Fix-it said quietly.

"And I'm not as fast as a ground vehicle can be." Idarassi twitched an audial panel. "This is going to be interesting." He glided smoothly out the door to join Bluestreak. The sleek, sporty black and silver alt was waiting for him, then waited a bit longer.

"It's a _really_ long walk. We should drive," Bluestreak said.

"If I could transform, I would have already," Idarassi replied casually. "I was never built to be able to transform. Another reason I was in the freak show. No alt mode."

Bluestreak transformed at that and stared at Idarassi, his face scrunched up a bit as he tried to think. "It's a _really_ long walk. Probably wouldn't even make it back by dark," he mumbled, trying to think.

Idarassi could see Fix-it leaning against the doorframe, watching and waiting to see if the youth would work something out.

It took nearly a klik before Bluestreak's optics brightened. "I could call a transport again. You'd have to ride in the back, but not in a cage."

"As long as it's not a cage." A shudder ran the whole length of the serpent-mech's frame. "I've had quite enough of those to last me an existence."

"Never again," Bluestreak promised with a pat to the first segment of the serpentine frame. "We'll never cage you. As long as you don't attack anyone except to defend us, no one will have grounds to have you caged either. An open one means you can smell and see, you you'll probably get stared at a lot. There are enclosed transports too, if you'd rather."

Idarassi shuddered again. "I'm used to being stared at. No enclosed spaces, please." His coil shifted into the touch, warm scales pressing against Bluestreak's palm.

"It's okay. No problem," Bluestreak assured him quickly and opened a comm line to his carrier. When he closed it he laughed at himself. "Carrier said he'll be here in a breem. She thought of it when Fix-it said you'd be coming home this orn. It's an open back one, the same mech that brought you here."

The half-serpent settled into a loose ball to wait, enjoying the breeze over his scales. "I like your carrier. She's a sharp femme." He tilted his helm slightly, then leaned forward, forked glossa flicking out. The tips just brushed Bluestreak's cheek, then Idarassi withdrew again.

The mechling giggled at the touch and patted Idarassi's scales again. "Yes, she's very sharp, and very smart. Sire and my brother may handle the business deals that pay for the estate, but carrier _runs_ things. I'm more like her than sire, but I'm not nearly sharp enough to do her function. I'm just glad that Prowl seems to appreciate having me around to play nice with folks he doesn't want to entertain."

"Watching the way your family works is certainly going to be interesting. I've never had the opportunity to see how a family runs. It'll be a learning experience." Idarassi looked up, hearing a gyrofalcon's screech from high overhead.

"You were sparked?" Bluestreak asked as much as assumed. "Is that why we've never recorded a frame like yours before? I did some research after I went home ... well, I wheedled my brother into it. He's so much better with databases and phrasing huge amounts from a search."

"I was sparked into this frame. As an _experiment_." There was ice in Idarassi's voice as the horror crossed Bluestreak's. "My creator was a scientist, one of those who would often ignore ethics and rules for an experiment. He wanted to see if he could build a mech that moved, looked, and behaved like some organic creatures he'd seen. I escaped when I'd had enough of being poked, prodded, scanned, and disassembled for his experiments."

Bluestreak trembled uncontrollably for a long moment before he managed to collect himself and look up at Idarassi with something between pity and regret. "I knew mecha could be cruel. I mean, some have to be with so many murders and rapes and such, but to spark a mech just to disassemble him...."

"There are a lot of mecha like that out there, unfortunately. Though now there is one less. My creator managed to deactivate himself a few vorns after I escaped. Lab accident; an experiment backfired on him. Not much left of his lab or of him. Good riddance." One shoulder lifted in a shrug as scaled coils sidled closer to the young Praxian.

"He didn't deserve being called a creator," Bluestreak spat. "Creators care, or at least they _try_ to care. I know sometimes it doesn't work, but they try. That was a monster," his sputtering rant was cut short by a large transport with an open back driving up. "That's our ride."

"I agree with you there," Idarassi told him, looking up as the transport pulled to a stop. "I didn't get the chance to say hello when you transported me out of that hellhole."

"You're welcome," the vehicle sounded genuinely surprised. "Climb in back and we can get going."

The half-serpent inclined his helm, then flowed up and into the back of the hauler. He arranged himself in a neat, compact pile, leaning against the back of the cab. "I'm ready."

"Then relax and hold on," the truck sounded fairly cheerful as it rolled out, gradually picking up speed on the open road.

What was it about Praxus that they didn't seem to care about his looks or lack of alt mode? The majority of the crowd had reacted the way he expected, but ever since Prowl had bought him everyone seemed to act like he was just another mech.

The lack of the response Idarassi had come to expect threw the half-serpent for quite a loop. Being a captive for so long had taught him to expect normal mecha to respond with shock, revulsion, and fear at the least. Or maybe that had been due to his behavior in the ring, prodded and tormented into a rage and turned into the ring to deliberately scare. Maybe Praxus was just different. It would give him a lot to think about.

Careful of his claws, Idarassi held onto the edge of the cab, taking in as much of the city as he could see. Scents washed over him, carried by the wind, giving his processors fits as he tried to sort them all out. He wouldn't trade the ride for anything though. It was incredible to see and smell everything being so _clean_. So different from anywhere else he'd been, but then he was never in the higher-income areas either.

They weren't headed for the palaces or towers of the nobles, but they were definitely headed into one of the wealthier areas. Yellow optics were wide, taking in all there was to see. Idarassi lifted himself up a bit higher, bracing against the rush of air pushing against his plating, and just stared. So this was what culture shock felt like.

Here he got more of the startled looks he was used to, but little hostility. The presence of the transport was likely reassuring to the locals that all was well. Whatever the cause, it felt amazing. So did not being in pain. He couldn't even describe the feeling of having full tanks.

This new life was so very different from anything he'd experienced before, so much better than being kept as an experiment or living in a filthy cage. It would take a lot of adjusting to, and probably would take orns to reassure himself this actually was real and not some dream brought on by a desire to be out of his chains. If this was real and not a dream, he hoped it would last as long as possible.

They pulled into the delivery bay of a residential tower and came to a smooth stop.

"We're here," Bluestreak chirped happily as he hopped out of the cab. "We live on the thirty-seventh floor. There's a really nice view of the gardens from the north side."

"I look forward to seeing it," Idarassi replied as he flowed down from the hauler, waving toward the mech before following Bluestreak. "Hopefully there's enough room for a mech my size... I don't exactly meet normal specifications."

"You're fine. You aren't taller than the fliers that live below us. A lot longer, but not really taller. High ceilings are a luxury we can well afford," he chatted as the lift opened for them. "You'll have to curl your tail around, but it's still bigger than that cage."

Coiled up, Idarassi could fit into an amazingly small amount of space. He slid into the lift, curling into a tight ball to take up as little space as possible. Settling in, he watched as Bluestreak joined him and the lift doors closed.

"That really is amazing," the young mechling continued to comment on whatever crossed his processors as the lift moved, taking them upwards. "You fit into less space than I do when I transform, but you don't transform. You are just that flexible."

"I was built to be as flexible as the organic life-forms the scientist who built me had studied," the half-serpent answered, glossa flicking out on the "s" sound. "He claimed it took decades of trial and error. I'm not sure if that was an exaggeration or not. I wasn't sparked into this frame until construction was completed. My lack of legs aside, I can climb, too."

"Really?" soft blue optics brightened and widened. "How can you climb? I mean, I can barely climb and I have legs," he didn't even pause as the lift opened into the delivery room of the family home and he walked out. "Are you hungry? Dinner will be soon, but it's social time. It's good not to be too hungry for it or carrier gets annoyed. Oh, and my brother's lover lives with us. I think you'll like Jazz. He's social and lots of fun. Has a great singing voice too, and can he dance!"

"As long as the surface I'm climbing isn't perfectly smooth, I can hook my underbody scales onto tiny ledges and into seams and pull myself up that way." Idarassi followed Bluestreak out of the lift, glancing around curiously. At the question about being hungry, he shifted slightly. "I haven't eaten since before I went into stasis for surgery," he admitted. One audial panel twitched. "I haven't heard song in a long time. Dance is beyond my ability, though."

"Prowl is encouraging Jazz to go pro. He does well enough performing in clubs to have more requests than he can fill and not leave Prowl grumpy about being ignored," Bluestreak giggled as the door opened and they entered the first of the living spaces. It was bright and open with walls of clear crystal to let the sunlight in, statues, artwork and even organic imports from far away worlds. "I'm sure Jazz will sing if you ask him too. He likes the mood it puts Prowl in," he giggled again.

Idarassi paused in the doorway, staring. Belatedly he remembered to move his tail out of the way before the door closed on it, loosely coiling around himself. His forked glossa flicked out, tasting the air, taking in the scents. When he moved again, he threaded his way around the room, taking care not to bump into anything that might be fragile or breakable. "Wow. I've never seen anything like this before."

"Really?" Bluestreak blinked, then ducked in embarrassment. "Of course you haven't. I'm sorry. You told me that. This is just home to me. It's a lot like the others I've been to on both sides of the family and my friends. It's nice but nothing like the residence of a minor noble I got to visit once, or the royal palace I attended with carrier and my brother when I was little for the celebration of their new heir. Did you want energon? I have some in my room. It's next to yours. Just a snack so you can be social for dinner. Carrier is big on manners."

"I've been in a scientist's lab, out alone in the wilds, and in a freak show cage. But never in an actual residence." The half-serpent paused to look out the windows, gazing at the view. Then his fuel tanks grumbled at him, getting a twitch from his tailtip. "Yes, I would like some energon, please. It's been orns since my last refuel, and I'd rather be able to socialize as best I can rather than behaving like the animal Backslide considered me."

"Aw, you were never that primitive," Bluestreak trilled and showed him down a hallway, through a double wide door and into to a simpler part of the residence. "The servants' quarters and utilities are down this way. The kitchen and pantry are these first two," he motioned to the doors to his left and right. "I'm not allowed to have my pets on open feeding, but carrier said you were special because even though you have to be registered as a slave-coded mechanimal for now, _she_ considers you a mech. It just takes time for all the forms and formalities to get sorted out. So you can come back here anytime for a snack."

Bluestreak opened the door on the right, revealing a simple room lined with shelves of various grades and types of energon, supplements, additives and serving dishes. Everything was neatly labeled. "This is the pantry. You can have anything you want, as long as you don't get overcharged outside your room or mine. Both my creators are very strict about that. High grade is for relaxing with, not to alter your personality in public."

The serpent-mach made careful note of everything, working out a map of the residence in his processor. Looking into the pantry, he flicked out his glossa for scents, a ripple running through his frame at what he detected. "I don't even recognize half these additives, but then, I've never really had any before. I've seen the freak show crews overcharged on high grade between shows, but I myself have never gotten near the stuff. Somehow I doubt I'd react to it very well."

"Then after dinner, when no one is going to be expecting us for a while, you can try some in my room," Bluestreak picked up a cube of high grade from the lower end of the potency scale. He also grabbed half a dozen additive packets. "It'd be good for you to know what you can tolerate and what you shouldn't consume. It helps to know what extras you like. Our chef will start asking in a few orns. We can just try some in small amounts in my room where no one will have to see you spit it out if it doesn't settle. Grab a snack and I'll show you your room, and mine."

Idarassi looked around the pantry, his expression that of a mech who didn't know how to identify most of what he was seeing. It was obvious that most of what Bluestreak was used to, the half-serpent had never seen before, much less had the chance to taste. Finally, he picked up a cube of regular energon. "It's going to take some trying. I'm not sure what most of these are." He poked a tentative claw at an intricately-shaped solid on another shelf.

Bluestreak giggled. "That's an energon candy. It's really good. Go ahead and try it."

The bigger mech poked it again before carefully picking it up, looking at it from all angles. After a moment he finally took a tentative nibble, yellow optics flaring and scales rippling at the taste. Idarassi gave the solid in his hand an astonished look, taking another bite. "It's good."

"I love them. Carrier insists I don't have more than five an orn," he grinned. "Come on, you'll have plenty of time to get used to everything. It'll just be the six of us at dinner tonight. I don't know if carrier is going to invite you to the big formal dinner next decaorn. I rather doubt it so soon, but it'll depend on how well you're settling in."

The half-serpent looked rather dazed as he backed out of the pantry, following Bluestreak down the hall. "This is most definitely going to take some getting used to."

"You'll have time," Bluestreak promised as he led the way to an internal lift. "We own two floors, so the berthrooms are on the top floor."

"Now I know what culture shock feels like." Idarassi boarded the lift, curling up tightly.

The Praxian was instantly close, one hand stroking along metal scales as he extended his field, warm and caring. "It'll be okay, Ida. No one is expecting you to know how to act right away. Everyone here is used to the strange things that move in for a while. They'll all be relieved to realize you not only understand language, but can talk."

"I can talk and understand language, but I was never properly socialized, so my social skills are... lacking." Warm scales tentatively leaned into Bluestreak's hand. "I have a lot to learn."

Bluestreak leaned a little closer, welcoming the contact and reaching out for more. "You're nice, even unsocialized and starving," he trilled gently. "You've got good social instincts. I know I never really feel rested after I've been in medical stasis. It wouldn't be wrong to take a nap, or just snuggle and relax before dinner," he added before the lift opened and he stepped away to lead Idarassi along the hall.

A slight shiver rippled the length of Idarassi's frame, helm to tail. "The touching will take as much getting used to. I've never known a touch that wasn't indifferent at best and meant to cause pain at worst. Please, don't touch me if I'm not already aware of your presence. If startled, I react on instinct... I don't want to hurt anyone, either deliberately or by accident."

"Oh! I'm sorry. I'll ask next time, okay? Carrier said I got all the tactile nature my brother doesn't have along with the social nature," Bluestreak rambled nervously. "I like touching everything and everyone. I don't even think about it. It's comforting, or I mean it to be. I'll be careful with you, I promise. If I'm touching too much, you can tell me. I won't be offended or anything."

"As long as you don't sneak up and startle me. Tactile contact is something I'll have to get used to, and there's no time like the present to start." Idarassi followed Bluestreak out of the lift and down the hall. His glossa flickered out, then back in, and the half-serpent frowned. "I hope no one finds this offensive or rude..."

"Not among the immediate family," Bluestreak reassured him. "That's my brother's suite he shares with Jazz. You _definitely_ want ping for one of them to open the door. Not that they seem to care, but I've seen them up to things I _really_ wish I hadn't."

Idarassi looked relieved at that. "Good to know. Most of the time I don't even realize I'm doing it." He tilted an audial panel at Bluestreak, amusement rippling through his field. "Duly noted."

"I did tell you they are lovers, right?" Bluestreak entered babble mode as he palmed open the door across from his brother's and stepped inside. "They're really a sweet pair. I've seen my brother smile more in the last vorn than since I separated from carrier. I think that's won our creators over. Prowl's _happy_ , and well, it helps that we don't have to worry about Jazz's family connections damaging our reputation since he was disowned."

The room was large, with a berth big enough for Idarassi to be only loosely coiled on. A desk, large vidscreen, several chairs and shelves of objects and datapads filled the space, making it seem much smaller than it really was.

"Oh, right, carrier wanted to know if you're functionally literate," he asked as the door finally closed behind the last of Idarassi's tail.

"It was mentioned that your brother's lover lived here, too," the half-serpent confirmed, pausing to look at the room. It took him a moment to start moving again. "I can read and write... I carved words into the floor at the freak show, telling you to call me Ida since my full designation can be hard to pronounce. Never got much opportunity to do either, though." He eased over to the berth, sliding up over one side and down over another. "This is mine?"

"Technically this is my room. Yours is the next door on this side," Bluestreak giggled. "Though I like snuggling if you ever feel like recharging here. She remembered what you wrote down, but that doesn't always mean you can read the news or a contract," he explained with a warm smile. "The berth in your room is longer, and with stronger supports. You'll still have to curl up, but only in half or so. Prowl thought you would be more comfortable that way than completely stretched out."

Idarassi nodded, settling into a loose ball. "Normally I sleep curled into a ball... But then, that fragging cage didn't leave me much room. Being able to stretch out at least a bit will be a welcome change." After a moment he eased closer, into easy touching distance, and resettled.

Bluestreak smiled and relaxed, his hand reaching out to gently stroke along warm scales when he was sure Idarassi was looking. "Your room does look a lot like this one, but instead of a chair for you there is a big U shaped cushion for you to snuggle into. Another of Prowl's ideas. Though you're welcome to recharge here before dinner if you want, or we can see what's worth watching on the vid."

The serpent mech blinked. "There are things that aren't worth watching?" he asked, confusion clear in his voice. He glanced at the screen, tilting his helm to one side to study it.

A soft smile and caress of Bluestreak's field tried to take the sting out of the next words before the screen lit up with the news from Iacon. "I think so. There's only so many ways to listen to the same news from different cities, but really I meant the shows. Some script writing and acting is better than others, some shows are big on special effects, and there are entire types that I just don't find interesting. We have over sixteen thousand channels available. I think what's on most of it isn't worth the time to watch."

Idarassi's response to that was a long stare as he tried to think of some way to respond. After a klik or two, a shake rippled scales the length of his frame. "I'll take your word for that." Adjusting his position, he draped his upper half over a loop of tail, letting his optics dim.

"Recharge well," Bluestreak smiled and relaxed himself. He changed to one of his favorite programs and muted the audio to feed directly to his comm system so Idarassi wouldn't be disturbed by it.

The half-serpent hummed softly, optics turning off and coils pulling in slightly as he slipped into a light recharge.

* * *

Idarassi picked nervously at a nonexistent scuff on his armor plating as he followed Bluestreak toward the dining room. The Praxian had carefully prodded the half-serpent awake when Idarassi failed to awaken on his own in time for dinner, waiting while the serpent-mech quickly ran clawed fingers through his synthetic mane and quickly brushed off his scales before leading the way.

When the pair reached the dining room, Idarassi paused for a moment, peering to take in the gathered mecha in before gliding into the room. All but one he'd seen before. Prowl and his creators were seated, along with a slender black and deep blue mechling with a blue visor next to Prowl around an ovoid table.

"That's Jazz," Bluestreak said with a motion to the unknown mech next to his brother as he guided Idarassi to sit on one end of the ovoid's long side, across from Prowl and next to him. "This is Idarassi."

The other mechling smiled up at Idarassi, the expression open and welcoming. "Nice to meet you."

The half-serpent nodded to everyone. "It is good to meet everyone." He slid forward, following Bluestreak. Curling into a tight coil, he leaned against his own tail, tucking the rest of his long body under the table.

"I hope our youngest has made you feel comfortable, Idarassi," Starbright smiled at him as two servants came out to set plates of delicately crafted energon solids before each of them.

"He has," Idarassi confirmed, nodding. "As well as hinting at just how much I have to learn." Yellow optics took in the solids, forked glossa flicking out. He whipped it back in as soon as he noticed, glancing sheepishly toward Bluestreak's creators.

"Your glossa is most unusual," Darksky spoke up, his voice low and cool. It was immediately apparent where Prowl inherited much of his mannerisms from. "It is purely a decorative design?"

The serpent-mech looked up from examining the solids. "Its design is based on the organic life-forms the scientist who built me had been studying. But no, it's not purely decorative. It is heavily wired with chemoreceptors. I can literally taste scent. It's actually more sensitive than my nasal passages are, and there's a sensor cluster in the roof of my mouth to help me sort out scents. That's why it keeps flicking out."

"Fascinating," Prowl murmured. "That would make it more than decorative. That design makes such an action both more energy efficient, data collection effective and less socially questionable. It would make what you consume a rather different experience as well, I expect."

The slender mech next to him elbowed Prowl rather roughly, huffing as he looked at Idarassi. "Forgive him. In case no one has warned you, his first reaction is to analyze _everything_."

"It's my function," Prowl shot back. Despite the aggressive tone and posture, he wasn't fooling anyone.

Idarassi chuckled softly. "I think I was warned." His glossa shot out, flicking at the air, then whipped back in again. "And he's right, though. All the sensors do make eating a different experience." He made a face. "They certainly kept me well aware of all the contaminants in the sludge the ringmaster fed me."

"You will have no more of that while you are here," Starbright said firmly. "We keep good energon in stock. A healthy fuel is critical for a fit frame and processor."

"And any other activities that one might indulge in." Jazz teased his lover very quietly.

Sensor wings fluttered before settling as Prowl suppressed a deep rumble of desire that made his brother giggle and carrier smile.

The half-serpent inclined his helm to Starbright, taking a moment to swallow a bite. "I'll just have to be careful of it for a while... I'm not used to energon of this quality, so my systems will require a bit of adjustment." His hissing accent was slightly more pronounced, the forked tips of his glossa showing as he spoke the "s" sounds.

"We understand. You are not the first starving creature my youngest has brought home, I doubt you will be the last, even if you are the most intelligent," Starbright said easily. "There is no need to rush refueling. Meals here are a social time."

"You get used to it rather quickly." Jazz promised, revealing that it had been something of a novelty to him. The casual atmosphere and sincere warmth had been far different what he was used to.

"Are the artifacts in your speech a factor of your glossa's design, or is it programming?" Prowl asked, earning another jab in the side from his lover.

"You mean the hiss in my speech? It's because of the design of my glossa. It wants to shoot out when I pronounce certain sounds. When I'm really tired and not really concentrating, my speech is as much hiss as actual words," the half-serpent answered. "It took some practice to be able to speak as clearly as I do." His long body shifted into a more comfortable position, the end of his tail just brushing Prowl's pede.

While the Praxian's sensor wings twitched, that was as much of a reaction as Prowl gave. "I imagine that could make socializing difficult, whether tired or overcharged. Your comm may be a better choice in those situations."

"This is the most socialization I've ever had in my existence, so I guess it would, but I don't know for sure." Idarassi's shrug rippled the whole length of his frame. "When I'm tired, I'm difficult to understand. Overcharged... I've never been near high grade, but probably."

"You'll get used to people," Bluestreak promised with an absent pat to the nearest bit of Idarassi's coil. "We have lots of nice friends we can introduce slowly, until you feel up to being part of carrier's social events."

"Yes, my youngest is quiet adept at socializing those not used to it," Starbright smiled warmly. "We do typically talk business over the family meals. Currently you are the most notable business we have. Bluestreak has told me that you consider yourself literate. Since we do have a contract to discuss, it would be understandable if you would wish representation of a legal specialist to protect your interests."

The blank look on the half-serpent's face clearly said that had gone right over his helm. "Pardon?" He looked from Starbright to Bluestreak and back. "I can read and write, though I'm out of practice on both. But... what contract?"

"A personal service contract between yourself and Bluestreak," she explained smoothly. "It is to protect both sides, particularly once you are confirmed to be a mech, legally."

"Basically, it lists out what you are to do, and not do, and what our responsibilities are in exchange, and for how long," Bluestreak spoke up. "It's with me because you were purchased for me. Right now you're legally a mechanimal, but once you're legally a mecha you'll be a slave because you were bought by those petitioning for your change in legal status. The contract would override the legal default."

Idarassi blinked several times as he digested that, trying to wrap his processor around it. "I think I'm probably going to need a legal specialist just to be able to understand what's going on," he finally admitted, his coils pulling closer.

"It's okay," Bluestreak assured him, his field reaching out to comfort him. "That's why carrier offered. There is a government department that gives legal advice to those who can't afford an independent lawyer. Several of them specialize in service contracts. It's a matter of honor to have one of them co-sign a contract asserting it is fair to both sides. It means you won't be bound to us forever. Probably just a few vorns after it's all settled and you're a legal mecha."

The edges of the serpent-mech's field melded slowly with Bluestreak's, revealing the depth of Idarassi's confusion. "It's still a lot to take in," the half-snake replied. A audial panel twitched. "Fix-it also indicated that the Enforcers will probably want to speak with me at some point."

"They will in the morning, after breakfast," Starbright nodded. "I will arrange for a representative to be there when we discuss the contract, and whether you wish to accept it, in full."

Idarassi inclined his helm in acknowledgement, picking up another solid from his plate and taking a bite. Yellow optics drifted over to Jazz. "Bluestreak told me that you're a singer."

"Yes," the mechling smiled brightly. "I have several regular gigs around the city, though not enough to be considered pro yet."

"It is only a matter of time, and a deal that I like enough to back," Prowl added. "He has the talent and skill."

Audial panels twitched with interest. "Perhaps sometime I could hear you sing? It's been a very long time since I last heard music of any sort. Longer than I've been on my own or captive at that show."

"After dinner?" Prowl suggested softly to his lover. "Since I missed that one show."

"Which I made up to you that night," Jazz snickered before leaning over to steal a kiss. "I'm game to sing after dinner."

Yellow optics brightened, eagerness in every line of plating and scale. "I would like that."


	3. Contractual Obligations

"It'll be okay," Bluestreak assured as part of his usual chatter as he showed Idarassi to his carrier's lounge, the place where the family matriarch conducted the most serious business. "Remember, the lawyer is there to protect _you_. To make sure you get a fair deal out of this and it's the protection we're telling you it is. Everything we have to do and everything that's expected of you will be spelled out in very simple language. You don't have to agree to it, but I don't really want a slave and these get a lot tougher once you are one."

Dark gray, patterned scales were puffed out slightly from Idarassi's frame, clearly indicating his nervousness. His scales had been like that all orn, especially following the lengthy interview with the Enforcers earlier. "As long as someone clearly explains everything I might not understand."

"That's what Proxy Guard is there to do. It's what he's _paid_ to do," Bluestreak assured him as they entered the room where Starbright and a slender one-panel mech of light blue and greens were chatting quietly.

The pair looked up and smiled in welcome. 

The mech stood and glided over to Idarassi. "I am Proxy Guard. I have read the briefing on your case," he said easily, offering his hand to the serpent-mech

"Call me Ida. Less of a mouthful than my full designation." Idarassi took the offered hand after a moment, being careful of the sharp claws on his fingers. It still amazed him to no end that mecha could treat him like a normal Cybertronian instead of a strange, potentially dangerous creature.

"Come and settle, Ida," Proxy Guard said easily as he motioned to the sitting area. "I have read the contract they are proposing and am ready to explain what every clause means in simple terms."

"The simpler the better." The relief in Idarassi's voice was clearly audible. He eased forward, curling up into a fairly compact ball of scales, leaning against his own coils. The tip of his tail out to loop loosely around Bluestreak's ankle. The mechling smiled and scooted closer, his field warm, happy and supportive.

"If you have questions about anything, please ask. Answering those questions is why I am here," Proxy Guard said firmly as he offered Idarassi a datapad with the contract on it so he could follow along. "What Starbright and Bluestreak are proposing is a fairly simple service contract. In exchange for a place to live, the energon you need, medical care, legal fees and your other needs, you will serve as a companion and guardian for Bluestreak for one hundred and six vorns. One vorn will be added for each sixty thousand credits spent on your support after the contract is signed. They have agreed to a cap of three hundred vorns no matter how much is spent. The account balance will be open to your review at all times. Barring unexpected expenses, it should run out in approximately a hundred and twenty vorns."

One audial panel twitched slightly back and forth as Idarassi looked over the datapad, reading it over carefully. "What would 'companion and guardian' entail?"

"You stay close to me whenever I'm out of the house, if I'm attacked, you get between me and whoever's attacking. Preferably to stop them without killing them, but if it's a choice between our lives and theirs, they lose," Bluestreak answered. "Companion means that you stay close to me too, but in a friendly way, like we have been. If we share a berth, it's completely by your choice. It's not required of you, not that I'd even want that. I don't get off on power games. If I'm really desperate for a berthmate and one of my friends isn't available, I just call one of the pleasurebots that my carrier's vetted."

The half-serpent considered that for a long moment. "That sounds reasonable." His tailtip, still curled around Bluestreak's leg, twitched. "I think it would be safe to say I can scare off most would-be attackers... Hopefully going further than just scaring won't be necessary. As for the rest... I need the contact."

"And I like your company," Bluestreak said with a smile. "We tried to pick duties that would be easy for you."

"The contract includes clauses specifying that they are obliged to pay for all fees associated with confirming your status as a mecha, even if it takes longer than you are bound by the contract," Proxy Guard continued. "If the government rejects all efforts to change your status, they agree to support you as Bluestreak's pet for as long as you wish to stay. That will also negate the service part of the contract. You will no longer be obliged to guard Bluestreak."

After taking a moment to work that out, Idarassi nodded slowly. His coils shifted briefly. "I don't want to be a burden."

"You won't be," Bluestreak insisted quickly. "Companionship is worth something, a lot really. You aren't as expensive to keep as one of carrier's show mounts. It's really not that big a deal. We have plenty of credits and Prowl and sire agree that this is a reasonable use of some of my share. Everyone has projects."

"That is true," Starbright added regally. "Prowl supports Jazz. I have many show animals and support rescue organizations. Darksky supports several local artists and charities. Bluestreak is entitled to support a mech or two if that is his desire. You do give back when you make him happy."

That got a relieved ripple from Idarassi's field, and his scales started to settle. "And Blue can help get me properly socialized." He looked over the contract again, one clawtip lightly tracing over the screen, careful not to damage it. "The contract is acceptable."

"Good," Bluestreak quivered with excitement before launching himself at Idarassi to wrap his arms around the much larger mech in a hug.

Scaled coils stiffened in surprise at the sudden tackle-hug, then slowly relaxed. One arm came up to return it awkwardly. It took him a couple kliks to extract himself enough to sign his own formal designation to the contract.

"I agree that it is quite fair," Proxy Guard agreed and signed his full, formal designation glyph to the contract before handing it to Idarassi to sign once he extracted himself from Bluestreak.

Bluestreak signed next, then Starbright.

"Do you have any final questions before I leave?" Proxy Guard asked Idarassi.

"Pretty much all of my questions have been answered," the half-serpent replied, settling back with one loop of his tail brushing against Bluestreak's leg. He'd made a point of asking whatever popped to mind about the contract, after being assured that there was no such thing as a stupid question.

"Then I hope that all goes well and you have no need of my services again," Proxy Guard stood and smiled at Idarassi before leaving.

Bluestreak hugged Idarassi again, radiating delight. "Now that that's all settled...."

"It is time for your studies," Starbright reminded him, causing Bluestreak's wings to dip.

"Yes, carrier," he vented. "Come on Ida. You can catch up on your education while I work on mine."

Idarassi shifted, gliding toward the door, somehow managing to uncoil in a manner that had Bluestreak riding on his back for a klik. " _That_ I'm definitely going to be asking a lot of questions about...."


	4. Dance Clubbing

Idarassi followed Bluestreak and Smokescreen, scales rippling with slight nervousness. This would be his first time facing a crowd since being rescued from the freak show. Crowds he was used to; he'd faced them many times while chained and enslaved by the ringmaster. This would be the first time there would be no separating ring, no chains, no one to keep them away from him, or him away from them. He was understandably nervous.

The young Praxian had done his best to get the half-serpent ready for the experience. It had taken some doing. Before leaving the residence, Idarassi had given himself as thorough a grooming as he could manage, polishing his scales and making sure he at least looked decent. It was a process that Bluestreak and Jazz had gleefully joined in the effort with before Jazz and Bluestreak went to work on the gray Praxian's finish.

Now around the general public, though still in on of the nicer districts, there were many more of the startled, uneasy looks or stares. Still, there was no jeering and Bluestreak's endless happy chatter at his side was a pleasant reminder that he had a friend now and he wasn't going back to a cage.

Yellow optics took in everything there was to see. Idarassi's forked glossa was out more than in, sampling the air, taking in the scents of the area. He noted the uneasy and startled looks, but kept his frame language as neutral and unthreatening as possible.

Audial panels shifted upward as Idarassi caught music from the structures ahead. "That's where we're going?"

"Yep," Bluestreak said cheerfully. "They have standard grade and a big space for mecha to hang out off the dance floor that you can find a spot to watch, have a nice cube that won't mess you up and watch me dance when I'm not with you."

"It's one of the better clubs. Overcharged mecha aren't tolerated," Smokescreen added. "The high grade is to get a nice buzz, but it's really a place to dance and hang out."

"And maybe pick up a playmate for the night," Bluestreak added with a giggle.

"One who won't mind your pet snake." The laugh in Idarassi's voice made the words a tease. "This is certainly going to be interesting. And I'll avoid the high-grade... Even with the tastes of the stuff that I've had, I still have the tolerance of a newspark."

"Right," Bluestreak nodded. "They know you're coming, so the staff won't be surprised. I can't say the same of the patrons, but the regulars are used to me and my habit of brings strange critters with me."

"The one server who has a fear of large mechanimals isn't working tonight," Smokescreen added. "Another reason it's tonight that we're going."

"Yeah, we want this to work out for everybody," Bluestreak nodded as they got into the short line at the entrance. "So we did more arrangements then we usually do."

"Understandable." Idarassi nodded. "We don't want anyone panicking if we can help it." He pulled in his tail to take up less space, waiting calmly.

"Hey, Blue," a voice called from the street, drawing their attention to a bright white and silver Praxian with two sensor wing panels and a pale blue chevron. "Is that your new pet? I heard you got a _big_ one this time."

"Hi Skywhisper," Bluestreak waved back. "Yep, this is Ida. He talks, and carrier is trying to get him registered as a mech. He's that smart, and with a spark."

Idarassi turned his attention to the other mech, tilting his helm curiously. The light breeze brought him the newcomer's scent, which was carefully filed away in the half-serpent's processor. "Hello... Skywhisper, is it?"

"Yes," the young mech came up to them. At this range Idarassi could pick up mild unease, but the mech was controlling it. "How did you end up with that frame?"

"An amoral scientist built it and put a spark into it, just to see if the spark would accept the frame or reject it. That spark was me. I've always been like this." Idarassi's shrug rippled along his entire frame.

Skywhisper's optics watched the motion all the way down to the tip, which was lightly resting against Bluestreak's pede.

"He was the star attraction at the freak show that got shut down," Bluestreak added as they moved forward a couple steps. "We're trying to give him good social examples."

"Coming in?" Smokescreen asked with a lecherous grin.

Skywhisper laughed and fluttered his sensor wings teasingly. "Maybe, if you're dancing tonight."

"You know I am," Smokescreen grinned and pulled the pale colored mech next to him.

"I'm learning a lot with Blue," Idarassi added, gliding forward as the line moved. "So much I never knew before. It's quite an experience."

"I bet," Skywhisper smiled at him as the line moved forward again. "Blue's great at socializing. He's even managed to teach his brother a few things."

The half-serpent snorted in amusement. "And that's a bigger project than I am, from what I've seen of Prowl."

"He's not that bad," Bluestreak huffed, but his sensor wings fluttered with amusement. "He's just not social to start with. You've seen him with Jazz."

"He's mush around that mech," Smokescreen snickered. "It's such good blackmail material."

"Prowl and Jazz are cute together." The big mech nodded. "It can make teasing them quite fun." He eased forward as the line moved again, scales brushing Skywhisper's leg before Idarassi pulled in his coils again.

"Have you seen Jazz perform?" Skywhisper asked after he settled from the slight startle of the touch.

"I've heard Jazz sing at the residence, but I have yet to actually see him perform at a club," Idarassi answered. "I hope to, at some point. This is my first time out since being rescued from the freak show."

"You will," Bluestreak promised with a hug while Smokescreen paid the door charge for all four of them. "When you feel ready, Prowl goes to nearly every show Jazz gives. I'll come too, if you want me to. He's amazing to watch, and watching the crowd watch him is just as fun."

Idarassi returned the hug, his glossa darting out to flick against Bluestreak's chevron. "We'll see how well tonight goes. Then, maybe, I'll be ready to try other new things."

"You'll get used to it, eventually," Bluestreak said with determination as they walked into a large space with scores of mecha, almost all young Praxians. Most were on the dance floor that was almost ninety percent of the floor space. There were several small bars without seating scattered about the dancers, but it didn't seem like there was anywhere to sit and rest.

"It's all on the second floor," Bluestreak motioned upwards, drawing Idarassi's gaze to the wide catwalks with clear floors that had the full scale bar and a great deal of seating with small tables for those who wanted to watch or needed a break from the dancing.

The half-serpent pretended to ignore the way people shied away from him, though he was well aware of them. "Good view and leaves more room for dancing."

"Yep," Bluestreak nudged him to follow Smokescreen and Skywhisper up.

Idarassi took one look at the stairs, then went up one of the supports instead, coiling around it and lifting himself up to the second level. He flowed over the railing, curling into a tight loop. "Stairs are awkward at best," he replied in response to the funny look he got.

"You really do know how to get around," Bluestreak grinned in reply as they followed Smokescreen and Skywhisper to the bar that was centered on the far wall. Skywhisper paid for Smokescreen's cube of highgrade as well as his own, while Bluestreak ordered a midgrade for himself and lowgrade, both effervescent with silver and a rust dusting.

"More than one way to get somewhere," the half-serpent agreed, settling into a spot where he could watch but wouldn't be tripped over. Bright, curious optics watched the dancers below, ignoring the nervous glances they gave him when they noticed. He was far enough above optic level that most didn't. Those seated around him looked, stared, one couple moved away uneasily.

Yet most seemed to accept his company as enough reassurance that he was safe to be around, even if he looked strange and a bit menacing.

"Another reason we picked this club," Smokescreen said as he joined Idarassi and Bluestreak at the table. "We're well known enough here that our presence means something to the patrons. We're trusted enough not to bring something dangerous in, and the club is trusted enough not to allow it."

Patterned coils shifted slightly, pulling into a tight ball. Idarassi took a sip of the energon Bluestreak handed him, humming slightly. "Makes sense." Yellow optics dimmed slightly as the half-serpent turned part of his attention to the music, shifting one audial panel slightly. It was simple compared to what Prowl and Bluestreak played, or even what Jazz sung, with a heavy beat suited to the movements of those below.

Listening to the beat, Idarassi couldn't help moving to it somewhat, the end of his tail shifting back and forth in time. It was a different kind of music than what he'd heard before, but it was good, and the beat was infectious.

Bluestreak grinned at him. "It's dance music. It's meant to get you to dance. I'm going to dance once I'm finished," he lifted his cube.

Yellow optics brightened and refocused. "It's certainly enjoyable to listen to." Idarassi looked down at himself. "I can't dance like that. One of the downsides of lacking legs."

"I bet if we tried, you could dance," Smokescreen grinned. "You've got a lot of movement in that frame that we couldn't hope to pull off. Might even make good credits on stage once you get good at it. You could put on a show, on _your_ terms."

The half-serpent's scales rippled. "Something to ponder. Once I figure out just how I could possibly dance, flexible frame or not."

"We can talk about it more in your room, where there is space to try things out," Smokescreen suggested.

"Only if you want to," Bluestreak insisted.

"It's something to try." Idarassi nodded, taking another sip of his energon. "That's for later, though. For now I'll just watch."

"This club does have great people watching," Smokescreen nodded.

"And if anyone gives you trouble, the bouncers are here to protect you," Bluestreak added. "If you can, dart behind the bar until help comes. Not that I really expect trouble, but it pays to be ready for the unlikely."

"Always better to be safe than sorry," Idarassi agreed. "I will remember that." Adjusting his position, he watched the dancers with interest, his upper frame absently swaying slightly to the music.

He didn't miss that both his companions smiled at him, or the happy contentment laced with excitement in Bluestreak's field. They all sat in silence for a while, sipping energon and people watching before the beat got to be too much for Bluestreak to ignore.

"I'll be back in a while," he promised as he stood to head for the dance floor below.

"I will be here," Idarassi replied, leaning lightly against the railing and watching as the Praxian descended to the dance floor. His tail continued to sway to the music, tucked under the table to keep from accidentally hitting anyone. He watched as Bluestreak smoothly joined the mass of gyrating frames, moving from dance partner to partner without difficulty or apparent care.

"This is the only place that seems busy enough to stop his vocalizer," Smokescreen commented randomly with a sip of energon. "Down there you'd never know how painfully shy he was as a sparkling."

Audial panels pricking up, Idarassi turned his attention to Smokescreen. "He was shy?" He turned to look at Bluestreak for a moment. "He certainly doesn't show it."

"The chatter's all that's left. The more nervous he gets, the faster he talks," Smokescreen chuckled. "But yes, he was very shy those first dozen or so vorns."

The half-serpent was silent for a moment as he digested that. "That would explain some of the rapid-fire chatter I've heard from time to time... I have to admit I was wondering how anyone could talk that fast without their vocalizer glitching." Yellow optics flicked toward movement on the catwalk nearby, spotting a large, relatively heavily-built Praxian trying to discreetly move in their direction. He stopped with a scowl once he realized he'd been spotted.

The shift in Idarassi's focus drew Smokescreen's attention to the large Praxian. He snorted through his vents. "Rapidfire. Your basic high-mass, low-processor bully."

Idarassi lifted an optic rim. "He seems unable to make up his processor whether to continue in this direction or back off now that he's been spotted."

"Typical, especially now that he can see you're bigger than he is," Smokescreen smirked and cast another glance at the bane of his youngling vorns. "Like most bullies, he's a coward when pushed."

That got a chuckle from the half-serpent. "Let's hope he doesn't find some long-buried courage chip or something. I'd rather not have to deal with idiots right now." He continued to watch Rapidfire until the Praxian backed off, glowering back at him.

Smokescreen snickered in his energon. "Here's hoping that your presence will keep him away from Blue. Mech still bothers him too often."

Patterned scales puffed out at that, the idle swishing of the half-serpent's tail pausing. "He still picks at Blue?"

"Yes," Smokescreen sighed. "Not really when he's with family or friends, but Blue is old enough to go out on his own regularly when he feels like it."

"Then I certainly hope I'll be able to keep him at bay, since I'll be with Blue when he goes out." Idarassi shifted, his coils sliding over themselves. "If he gets too bold I should be able to scare him off without actually causing any damage."

"He doesn't take much to scare, just like he doesn't tend to do much damage," Smokescreen agreed. "Blue's safe enough here; we know a lot of mecha here, but you'll be with Blue when we aren't. I'm glad you accepted that contract. Much as I hate to admit it, sometimes Blue needs a guardian."

"I'll keep an optic on him," the half-serpent replied, nodding. Settling back, he looked down at the dancers below.


	5. Proving a Point

Entering the Praxian Science Academy was an unsettling experience for Idarassi despite three decaorns of intense socialization to individuals and large groups alike. Even out here where it looked normal, he could pick up the smells and tastes that mean _laboratory_.

"It'll be okay," Bluestreak reassured him with voice and field, and the now-familiar hand on the scales at the beginning of his snake body. "They're not going to hurt you. Just look at stuff and run non-invasive testing."

A nervous hiss escaped Idarassi, his scales and armor plating flattening to his frame. Under Bluestreak's hand a shiver ran through the powerful coils. The half-serpent had never been able to associate anything pleasant with laboratories.

"I know that this is necessary, but I have only bad memories of labs. This is not going to be easy for me at all," Idarassi responded, his hissing accent more pronounced than usual.

"I'll be there, and I have a right to stop it," Bluestreak reminded him, trying to reassure as they made their way to the mecha life studies area. "If it's too much, just say so."

Idarassi trembled faintly from helm to tailtip. "I just want to get this over with," he mumbled, slowing down slightly. His clawed hands flexed nervously as he gathered himself. Bluestreak ended up a few steps ahead of him when the reached the research lab's doors.

The gray mechling poked his helm in. "Skyfire, Starscream?"

"Ah, Bluestreak, come in," a warm voice called back. "Is Idarassi with you?"

"Yep," he grinned before glancing over his shoulder to make sure it was still true.

The serpent-mech slid in, settling into a tight curl just inside the doors. Visibly nervous yellow optics flitted around the lab, taking in everything that was in sight. It looked uncomfortably like his creator's old lab, but there were enough differences to keep him from bolting. Finally, his attention turned to the other two mecha in the lab. One was an absolute giant of a flier, mostly white with some red and warm blue optics. The other was a sleek red, white and blue Seeker with sharp red optics.

"Ida, this is Skyfire and Starscream," Bluestreak introduced everyone. "They're going to run the tests that prove you're a mech."

"The tests will prove what they prove," the Seeker correctly sharply. "We are scientists. Our results are not bought."

"Star, the mechling didn't mean that and you know it," Skyfire tweaked his much smaller companion's wingtip. "Never mind his temper. He's having a ... stressful ... few orns."

"That's okay," Bluestreak said easily before he hopped onto a stool out of the way to watch.

"Please come here, Idarassi," Skyfire knelt to bring their optics on level and offered his hand. "None of these tests should cause any pain."

Idarassi reared up, lifting himself more to the white flier's height, reaching out slowly to take the offered hand. "It is... good... to meet you," he said finally, though the hesitation and the nervousness were clear in his voice. He glanced at Starscream, then leaned forward, glossa darting out to flick against Skyfire's armor.

"Hush you," Skyfire said sternly to Starscream before looking at Idarassi. "Would I be correct that your glossa is more advanced than most?"

"Full of very sensitive chemoreceptors. I can taste scent, and the sensor cluster in the roof of my mouth ensures that my sense of smell is many times sharper than the average mecha. My glossa is more sensitive than my nasal passages are," the half-serpent replied. Wary yellow optics watched Starscream. "I do that to learn someone's scent."

"Fascinating," Skyfire said.

"Fine, fine," Starscream muttered and held his hand out. "I probably scent a bit off from normal."

"Since I don't know what 'normal' is for you, I might not be able to tell," Idarassi managed to retort, leaning forward to flick his glossa against Starscream's hand. That done, he settled into a loose coil, scales rippling nervously from where mech became serpent to the end of his tail.

"You'll know him long enough to find out," Skyfire chuckled. "Unfortunately his manner doesn't improve much. First I'd like to confirm that you have a spark. Without that it doesn't matter what the rest of the testing says, you can't be listed as a mecha."

The half-serpent nodded shortly, glancing around the lab again. "Where do you want me?" There was nervousness wrapping around the hiss in his speech, and his field was making it quite clear that that lab was giving him the surges.

"There is fine," Skyfire said gently as he brought out a hand held spark scanner. "Just expose your spark for a moment and we'll get it over with."

The serpent-mech nodded once, settling back on his tail. His chestplates reluctantly opened to reveal the light bluish-purple spark flaring and pulsing within its crystalline prison. Clawed hands flexed nervously on air as Idarassi waited. The device was brought close and Skyfire hummed and trilled as the readings were taken.

"You can close your armor now," Skyfire smiled at him. "That should be as invasive as we get."

Gray chestplate practically snapped closed, Idarassi sliding back out of reflex before catching himself and easing back into place. The half-serpent drew in a long intake of air, holding it for a moment before x-venting slowly. "Now what?"

Starscream stepped away to get some equipment, but Skyfire remained kneeling as he drew a bite-sized energon wafer from subspace. "Treats tend to make things easier," he offered it to Idarassi.

"He's just a bit softie," Starscream scoffed.

"They work on you," warm blue optics twinkled with mischief.

There was a moment of hesitation, then Idarassi carefully accepted the wafer. He examined it thoroughly, glossa flicking across it to get an idea of what it consisted of before he actually committed to eating it. That was as good as a shouted confession that someone had either tried to poison or sedate him with something similar, long ago.

"I told them what you like," Bluestreak spoke up, his wings twitching in agitation. "They really do just want you to be more comfortable during the testing."

"It's true," Starscream turned around from what he was doing. "We operate under _rules_ here. Because you are fully verbal you're under the same consent requirements as a mecha. We can't do anything you don't agree to let us do first."

Idarassi vented heavily. "I've never had any good experiences with labs. It's deeply-engrained wariness, and that you can blame on the mech who built me. I am trying, I really am. Otherwise you'd never get me out from under the tables."

"Is there anything we can do to make it better for you?" Skyfire offered, his field making it a genuine one.

"Aside from doing this outside of a lab, not much." The half-serpent inhaled deeply. "Let's just get this over with."

The scientists exchanged looks.

"It would take longer, but we _could_ do the testing in Starscream's apartment," Skyfire offered. "It's not a lab, but we can bring the equipment we'll need there, one test at a time."

The half-serpent swayed from side to side ever so slightly, trying his to balance his desire to get out of the lab, a place that held only painful memories for him, with the desire to get the testing done and over with. Uncertainty flickered through his field, following the nervous shifting of scales.

"You don't have to face your fears right now," Bluestreak got off the stool and came close, wrapping his field around Idarassi when he hugged him. "How much longer are you talking?" he looked at Skyfire.

The shuttle hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps a vorn instead of eight metacycles. The sequence to prove sentience is extensive."

Coils shifted to loop loosely around Bluestreak, wrapping him to the waist in patterned gray scales. Idarassi's field was thick with nervousness and a deeply-ingrained fear despite his best efforts to keep it under control. "This is going to be more difficult than I thought," the serpent-mech murmured, voice trembling.

"We'll do it elsewhere," Bluestreak made the choice for him.

"Does flying bother you?" Skyfire asked gently.

That distracted Idarassi from his nervousness. Yellow optics cycled several times as he looked at the shuttleformer. "I've never been off the ground, so I wouldn't know. I've always envied fliers, though." One clawtip hovered over Bluestreak's sensor wing, but didn't quite touch.

"Well, then we'll just have to find out," Skyfire said as he stood. "Let's go outside so I can transform."

Idarassi's coils shifted, lifting Bluestreak onto his back rather than just letting go. The mechling squealed in excitement and giggled as he settled, wrapping his arms around Idarassi's mech torso as the half-serpent followed Skyfire outside. He paused when the giant folded into an even more impressive high-speed interstellar shuttle, then opened his cargo bay ramp.

"Come in," Skyfire said cheerfully while Starscream secured some equipment.

The serpent-mech eased up the ramp, pausing at the top before gliding all the way in. The rippling of his underbody scales against the deck of Skyfire's shuttle form was a new and different sensation, the edges of the large scales hooking onto the tiniest of edges and seams to pull the half-serpent forward. Idarassi's glossa was going a mile a minute as he settled into a loose coil, his field pulsing curiously against the field he was now surrounded by. That field pulsed back with just as much curiosity.

"All secured," Starscream said as he walked out to launch himself into the sky before transforming.

"Ready?" Skyfire asked as he closed the ramp and locked it for flight.

"Ready," Idarassi replied, looking around to see if there were any viewports or windows and realized there were none. "As ready as I'll ever be, anyway."

"Just happy to be out of a lab?" Skyfire said cheerfully as his engines powered up and he began to move forward, then up and forward as he took to the air.

" _Very_ ," was the emphatic response. A shudder rattled Idarassi's scales. "There are nothing but bad memories and old pain associated with labs for me. The scientist who built me... was not a nice mech in any sense of the word."

"Perhaps we can try to work on that. Once our studies are done, there are three more teams that must repeat them to avoid the implication of a payoff or blackmail screwing the results," Skyfire sighed. "I really don't understand why the government makes it so difficult. We _should_ be allowed to confirm what you are with a check that you have a spark and complexity scan of your OS. That can be done in a couple breems, with full results the next orn. But no, we have to put you through so much more."

Idarassi managed a shaky chuckle, settling down and curling his tailtip around Bluestreak's ankle. "Since when has the government made anything easy for anyone?"

"Never," Skyfire chuckled ruefully as he settled into cruising altitude. "They hate change with a passion."

"I've never really had much experience with politics... I've lived under the radar for vorns. But I've heard many mecha complaining about it." The end of Idarassi's glossa poked out, the twin tips wiggling slightly.

"It's a universal truth. Either you're got it all and you like politics, or politics is the cause of all ills in the universe," Skyfire said. "I don't believe it's that simple, but politics doesn't do many mecha any good."

"Not something I ever want to get sucked into." The half-serpent nodded. Yellow optics dimmed ever so slightly as he shifted position and settled in for the ride that turned out to be a full groon long before they began a sharp decent.

"Have you ever been to Vos?" Skyfire broke the long silence.

"If I have, it was with the freak show, which meant I only got to see the mecha who came to the show but not the city itself." The half-serpent thought for a moment. "I think I was there once or twice, but that was a while ago. I remember being envious of all the wings."

"Well this time you'll be seeing it from the Royal Tower," Skyfire told them, causing Bluestreak to stiffen with a gasp of shock. "Starscream is fourth generation descendant of the Winglord."

A startled hiss escaped the serpent-mech, and he just stared at the closest bulkhead in lieu of Skyfire's face. "Truly? You're serious?"

"Yes, he is a Royal of Vos," Skyfire confirmed as he angled in for a landing. "He's a scientist first. All his lineage brings him is the credits to follow his passions."

Idarassi's upper half swayed back and forth as he wrapped his processor around that. "I knew my existence was going to get interesting when I was rescued from that freak show, but I had no idea just how interesting it would get. Or how many new mecha I was going to meet."

"Oh yes, I have no doubt it'll be most interesting," Skyfire chuckled as he set down on the landing balcony of Starscream's apartment and lowered the ramp. "Don't be surprised if a couple other Seekers drop in. The black one is a teleporter, Skywarp. The blue one is Thundercracker. They're his trine-mates."

The half-serpent snorted. "If one pops out of nowhere it's going to be difficult _not_ to be surprised. I've heard of teleporters, but I've never seen one. Or, at least, I've never actually seen one teleporting." He slid slowly down the ramp, optics flitting about, taking in all there was to see. Easing around Skyfire's frame, he looked out over the city, glossa out and flicking, tasting the air.

It was colder up here, and the air much thinner. Though they weren't on the top floor of the Royal Tower that dominated the floating city, they were still well above everything else that wasn't actively flying. He could see the marked similarities between Vos and Praxus, but there were definite differences too. Praxus was, ultimately, a grounder's city. Vos barely bothered to acknowledge that grounders served a purpose.

"It's amazing," Bluestreak breathed in amazement. "I've been here, but never so far up."

"Incredible," Idarassi murmured, still gazing out over the city. "Never seen anything like this before. But then, there is a _lot_ I've never seen before." Fearlessly he leaned part of his frame out over the edge of the balcony, curling his tail around a handy support. The fact that he was able to hold his body out straight and actually lift himself higher over thin air hinted at just how much power lurked in his coils.

"The strength to mass ratio that requires...." Starscream murmured, his optics locked on the sight of Idarassi doing what looked physically impossible. Skyfire was similarly fixated.

It took a moment before Idarassi noticed their stares. "I was built for power... I'm a constrictor-type, based on organic life-forms that used pure strength to bring down prey larger than they themselves were. Otherwise I'd be more lightly built but extremely venomous." He settled back onto the balcony, moving over toward them.

"Venomous?" Bluestreak cycled his optics. "Why would any ... right, he was a sick nut job."

"Interesting," Starscream flicked his wings with a motion that was far more than mild curiosity. "Who was your creator?"

"His designation was Firewire, out near the Sonic Canyons. He'd been kicked out of the mainstream scientific community because of his complete lack of morals or ethics. When I escaped, he was trying to create a powerful toxin for a venomous model. I remember seeing his notes and designs. But then his lab exploded before he actually ever got to build any of them." Idarassi's scales ruffled, puffing out and resettling.

"How certain are you that he is deactivated?" Starscream was now very interested, while Skyfire was too disturbed to contemplate talking.

"I caught the news broadcast after the lab explosion, and I recognized the parts of his frame that hadn't been blown apart. Which was pretty much everything from the waist joint up. After all he put me through, I knew very well what he looked like." Clawed fingers flexed. "He must have been leaning over the lab table when whatever he was working on exploded. Good slagging riddance."

"Agreed," both fliers settled.

"Do you know why he built you, and then tried to build a venomous one?" Skyfire asked uneasily.

The half-serpent's hiss had a distinct edge to it. "Because he could. He wanted to see if he could build something that moved and behaved like an organic. He was playing Primus. I know I'm not the first he built. But only one of his other tries succeeded, and he escaped long before I was built."

"We're not going to be looking for him..." Skyfire tried to be reassuring.

"But if he contacts you after news of your mech-status case, we'll sponsor him too," Bluestreak broke in.

"Do you know where he got the sparks from?" Starscream asked, his wings twitching uneasily as he motioned Idarassi to settle next to the equipment from the lab.

"I'm really not sure," Idarassi admitted. "But I suspect he might have been continuing his experiments on sparks, taking a spark from one frame and putting it into another." His helpless shrug rippled all the way along his frame. He eased over to the piece of equipment, watching Starscream with wary curiosity.

"If yours came from a known mecha, do you want to know?" Skyfire asked gently while Starscream connected a thick data cable to the box like piece of hardware.

"Dataport," Starscream said as he faced Idarassi with the other end of the cable in hand.

Idarassi took a moment to ponder that. "I'm not sure. Maybe." He made a face, then twisted around, shifting synthetic fibers out of the way to expose the port at the base of his helm, just under the hairline.

"That's a new one," Starscream commented to himself as the cover slid open under pressure rather than by command. "I can fix that in a couple kliks when we're done downloading your files."

"It's not broken." There was acid in Idarassi's voice, but it wasn't directed at Starscream. "Firewire designed it so that I can't seal it. Kept me from keeping him from hacking my processors."

Both scientists went still for a moment as Bluestreak came up to hug Idarassi in support. Starscream recovered first, after some sputtering of outrage.

"You don't even have the protocols?" the Seeker nearly screeched.

The half-serpent turned his helm just enough to fix one green-flecked optic on Starscream. "Why would that fragger who built me want to give me _anything_ that would stop him from taking advantage of me any time he wanted?"

Thick triangular wings flexed and shivered in outrage as bright red optics flared. "He's lucky he's deactivated," the Seeker hissed.

Skyfire shuddered and closed his optics for a brief moment. "I think we're going to want to schedule another doctor." He looked over at his partner as the Seeker got control of himself.

"Yes. Yes, I'll make arrangements. Ratchet is the best. He'll do more than fix you, he'll bring you up to code," Starscream nodded. "Even mechanimals have rights."

"Firewire clearly didn't get that memo. I was just an experiment to him, a _thing_ , less even than a mechanimal." Idarassi's coils tightened slightly. "Whatever it takes to make sure no one can do that to me again."

"Ratchet's as moral as they come when it comes to medical ethics," Skyfire said, watching the code analyzer's download status. "He'll do everything he can to fix what that monster did to you."

"I'm sure some of what Firewire did to me, I'm not even aware of myself," the serpent-mech grunted, shifting slightly and grimacing faintly at the feeling of the analyzer going through his coding. "Mostly what I was aware of was the physical. Especially when he started taking me apart to test something without bothering to turn my sensor net or pain receptors off first."

The Seeker hissed and twitched in impotent fury enough that it drew the thunder of powerful engines down from the sky as a medium blue Seeker with red trim soared into the room from the open balcony and transformed mid-landing.

"It's just sick, discredited scientists," Starscream hissed at his trinemate.

Idarassi turned as much as he could to regard the newcomer, glossa flickering out to catch a scent. Careful of the cable plugged into the back of his helm, he shifted for a better look. "That's... Thundercracker, is it?"

"Yes," Skyfire nodded.

"Yes, who are you?" the new Seeker was only a couple fingers taller than Starscream, but seemed much larger with his deep voice and slightly wider wingspan.

"Idarassi, though I also answer to Ida. Starscream and Skyfire are testing me for sentience." The half-serpent indicated the cable plugged into his neck. "We're here because I don't do labs well at all."

"Firewire is worse than reported," Starscream growled.

Thundercracker simply groaned. "Finish your testing," he sighed as he turned to leave. "You can rant to me later."

"At least the fragger is deactivated and can't hurt anyone else." Idarassi settled down, leaning into Bluestreak while waiting for the code analyzer to finish.


	6. Post-Op with Ratchet

Ratchet let out a deep x-vent. The strangest surgery in his history had ended the orn before, a process that was more discovery and retrofit than actual repair. The patient had been in excellent repair, but as Starscream had warned there was a lot that needed fixing. Half of which the patient wasn't even aware of.

Now it was time to handle the hard part in this case; the post-op briefing.

Settling himself and his presentation in his processor, the medic opened the door to the private room and took in the sight of his most unusual patient to date. While the berth was oversized for the room, at least it hadn't been a special order. After getting the measurements and mass, and assurances that the patient preferred to recharge coiled up, they'd been relieved to realize that a convoy-class berth would handle him.

"How are you feeling?" Ratchet asked as the door closed behind him.

Yellow optics flecked with green regarded him. "Distinctly odd. I have new programs integrating, and it feels very weird." Idarassi shifted, flopping across his own coils to watch the medic but not stirring otherwise.

"Have they produced any errors or unpleasant feelings?" Ratchet asked as he pulled the corner chair over to sit within arm's reach of him.

Idarassi paused for a moment, running a quick scan. "No errors, nothing I would call unpleasant. Just... odd. These new programs will keep anyone else from hacking me?"

"At least from doing so easily," Ratchet nodded. "There are always mecha that can break a firewall, but what we installed will keep you safe from most bugs, viruses and attempted hacking. They are few and you aren't the kind of target they bother with."

"Considering how unprotected I was before, to have some protection feels very good. I don't ever want anyone to use me the way Firewire did." Scales rippled along the length of his frame. "Never again."

Ratchet pulled two cubes of high grade from his subspace and offered one to Idarassi. "Speaking of that ... I hope you know that he was an aberration. Most mecha aren't like him, even if most aren't as nice as Bluestreak either."

The half-serpent shuddered. "I certainly hope most mecha aren't like Firewire. He was a sick mech, and Cybertron is better off without him." He accepted the cube, taking a sip.

"While you don't have to tell me, I do have to ask you if there is anything he did to you that you haven't told Bluestreak or Starscream," Ratchet took a solid drink of his own cube. He hated this part of abuse cases.

Idarassi blinked at him. "As I told Blue and Starscream, I'm not sure of the extent of what Firewire did to my coding. Physically, it was rather hard to see what he was doing when I was strapped or chained to a table."

Ratchet hesitated, then took another drink of the high grade. "I'm talking about forcing you to interface."

The serpent-mech paused in mid-sip to give Ratchet a strange look. "Firewire never touched me that way. I was just an experiment to him, and too much an animal. No one at the freak show ever dared."

"Ah," the medic nodded and relaxed. "At least that's one set of traumas you didn't have to deal with then. Count your blessings on that. As bad as it was, it could have been much worse."

The response was an emphatic nod from the half-serpent. "To Firewire I was both a thing and an animal; to the freak show staff I was too dangerous and too valuable. No one ever wanted to get near me that way."

"That said, don't shut yourself off from the option," he smiled softly. "It's a very fun pastime."

"So I've figured out, from Blue. But I've never experienced it myself, so someone will have to teach me, and I doubt it works quite the same way for me considering my frame." Idarassi indicated his distinct lack of lower limbs.

"Your parts are quite normal, and in the normal place for a mecha," Ratchet made a general motion to where mech met serpent on Idarassi's frame. "There's always a learning curve when you first start. At least with your spike you should have most of the normal options. Your valve is only accessible when your partner is facing you, but it's not that serious a limitation. I know there are at least two mecha inclined to teach you when you want to learn."

Audial panels twitched under Idarassi's blue-streaked black synthetic mane. "I'm not sure when that will be, though."

"What is your reservation?" Ratchet asked gently.

"Complete and total cluelessness," Idarassi answered, ruffling his scales. "And the fact that I've been pretty much conditioned to associate touches with pain. Though exposure to Bluestreak is helping with that."

"The first is no reason to avoid pleasure," Ratchet said firmly. "The second ... as long as you're working on disassociating touch with pain, that can be a very good reason. Though you might find it worth the effort to explore yourself. Your own touch can feel just as good as a lover, and it might take some of that cluelessness out."

"I'll remember that." Idarassi nodded, inclining his helm. "As long as I don't damage myself by accident." He splayed his fingers, indicating the curved claws tipping them.

"You would be amazed how difficult that it," Ratchet chuckled. "You do have full interfacing protocols, we checked. They'll prevent you from accidentally hurting yourself with your claws, just as they'll prevent you from hurting yourself by gripping too strongly or pulling your hand the wrong way. The systems are designed to bring pleasure, so there are basic safeguards in the protocols to prevent self-harm by accident."

"I was completely unaware of that." The half-serpent looked a bit sheepish. "Just proves exactly how clueless I am. There's going to be a lot of trial and error involved."

"That can be a great deal of fun," Ratchet grinned. "Give me a call if you want to play with someone bigger than Bluestreak."

"Might not be for a while, but I'll remember." Finishing his cube, Idarassi slowly began to uncoil, easing to the floor to test out his balance.

"I doubt my inclination will change," Ratchet chuckled and stood. "I'm always up for a new party. How are you feeling?"

"Almost finished integrating the new programs and the repairs, but it'll feel weird until I get used to them being there." Idarassi started to rear back, lifting himself toward the ceiling, but thought the better of it when he wobbled, lowering himself back to the floor. As aware of the reaction of those around him was, he didn't miss how unphased Ratchet was by the move.

"Given your mass and energy storage, that should not have been enough high grade to make you woozy," Ratchet's expression was of concern as he stood up to move closer. "What errors did you just get?"

"Recalibrating. My main processor is still sorting through the programs you installed, and it's throwing off the secondary, which controls movement and deals with sensory input. The signals are getting backed up." The half-serpent settled into a loose ball within easy reach of the medic.

"Okay," he nodded. "That's longer than I would have liked, but given how complex your processor and control systems are, I'm not that surprised. You have a lot more going on than the average mecha."

"Average mecha don't read vibrations through the ground like datapads or see in infra-red most of the time. And they generally don't have to be constantly adjusting their own strength to avoid crushing anything by accident." The serpent-mech chuckled slightly. "Skyfire and Starscream were both astonished by just how strong I am, and I was just stretching over the edge of a balcony."

"I heard about that," Ratchet grinned. "I'm sure it was stunning to see. Having seen inside your frame, I'm not going to be surprised."

"Most mecha are. I'm constantly calibrating how much strength I exert, so I don't hurt anyone. The few times I've had to hurt other mecha, when I was caught by the freak show owner, the results were not pretty." Patterned coils tightened, pulling into a compact ball.

"I can very easily imagine," Ratchet nodded. "I'm glad you aren't one of those who like hurting others, though you could probably make a fortune in the arenas if you did."

Idarassi shuddered from helm to tailtip, the rattling of his scales echoing in the room. "I hate even the thought of hurting anyone. Only if I feel my own existence is in danger would I contemplate it."

"That is an excellent set of morals to have," Ratchet reached out to pat Idarassi's shoulder. "How's your calibration going?"

"Just about done, I think." Coils unwrapped as Idarassi carefully stretched out again, rearing back and up until his helm almost brushed the ceiling, supporting most of his fame with a loop of tail. "Much clearer than my processor was a breem ago."

"Good," Ratchet was genuinely pleased. "Bluestreak is here, if you feel up to seeing him now."

"Yes, please." The big mech settled back into a loose coil, nodding.


	7. Coming Home

Idarassi let out a shiver of relief when he followed a happily chattering Bluestreak into the mechling's quarters and found his favorite spot loosely coiled and resting against a low couch like the one in his room. A duplicate that had been ordered when Bluestreak realized, much to his delight, that Idarassi spent a lot of time hanging out with him even in the house where it wasn't required. He'd had his berth reinforced as well, so Idarassi could lounge there without worry.

It was no surprise when Bluestreak flopped down on the low couch to snuggle into Idarassi's coils, his field warm and happy in the safety he felt there.

The half-serpent adjusted his own position slightly, settling his upper half closer to the Praxian. His field reached out to brush against Bluestreak's, and air hissed from all Idarassi's vents as he finally began to relax. Necessary or not, he wasn't the fondest of mecha about medbays, though he was better with medical bays than laboratories. Leaning his helm against the side of the couch, the half-serpent gazed out the window, watching flying mecha moving in and out of view.

"It must feel a lot better not to have vulnerable systems," Bluestreak rambled, probably for the fourth or fifth time.

"It feels a lot better," Idarassi replied, not minding the repetitive rambling. "Now I shouldn't have to worry about someone hacking me. That _hurts_. I'd rather not go through that again." Scales shifted closer to Bluestreak and felt the Praxian give a contented sound as he settled even closer.

One hand reached out to stroke the scales Bluestreak found so fascinating and pleasant to pet. "It's nice to know you're safe too. Ratchet means that you'll end up with the full three hundred vorn commitment, but I didn't get the feeling that you are in much of a hurry to get out of here. Not like some we've taken on that want to get back to the existence they had before as fast as possible."

That got a full-frame shudder, Idarassi's side pressing into Bluestreak's hand. "I want nothing to do with my old existence. I was either a scientist's experiment or a freak show master's pet attraction. At the moment I have nowhere to go, and I know I'm not ready to try and go it alone yet. There's still so much to learn."

"I'm glad you're not out to leave soon," Bluestreak said warmly. "I like having you here."

"I like being here." The serpent-mech smiled at the smaller Praxian, relaxing again. "It's different from anywhere else I've ever been, and it's safe."

"Good," Bluestreak trilled, his engine purring. "I hope you consider staying after your contract is up. I know we can find _some_ position for you, if you decide you want it."

"I doubt I'll ever be in much hurry to leave. With nowhere else to go and other mecha looking at me like I'm some dangerous, wild beast, finding a new place would be difficult." Lazily, Idarassi shifted his upper half and part of his long tail, turning onto his back. Bluestreak followed the movement, rolling to lounge on top of Idarassi.

"Ratchet indicated that you've never interfaced," Bluestreak said, his field a mix of excited and cautious.

Idarassi shook his helm. "No, I never have. Firewire only thought of me as a thing to be experimented on, and the freak show staff avoided me as dangerous. I have the parts, but they've never been used." He gestured vaguely toward the large, roughly hexagonal scale right where mech became serpent.

"It's a _very_ nice part of existence," Bluestreak smiled and scooted up Idarassi's frame enough to lightly brush their lips together.

A hum of surprise escaped the larger mech. The tips of his forked glossa flicked against Bluestreak's lips. "Not one I've ever experienced before... It will take some experimenting."

"Doc said your parts were like mine," Bluestreak smiled, giggling at the sensation of Idarassi's glossa against his lips. "I've got a pretty good idea how to make it feel good for you, if you want me to."

"He did say my parts were normal, and he did point out to me that I should give it a try. You know a lot more about it than I do, though." Feeling a bit playful, Idarassi flicked the tips of his glossa against Bluestreak's cheek. The mechling was in a good mood and tasted of it. There was also a faint taste of the smell he had when one of his friends was with him for pleasure.

Bluestreak kissed Idarassi again, more fully this time, and extended his field to interlace with Idarassi's.

The half-serpent's field pulsed briefly against Bluestreak's, then threaded into it, slowly merging. Awkwardly, Idarassi returned the kiss, his manner that one of someone not sure he's doing it right. Cautiously, one hand lifted to skim over Bluestreak's plating.

"Practice makes perfect," Bluestreak smiled as he went for a third kiss. His field offered Idarassi the pleasure his touch generated as the Praxian trailed his hand down Idarassi's side.

A hissing purr, or maybe a purring hiss, was the response. Once he was sure his hand wasn't going to be swatted away, Idarassi eased it up higher, toward one sensor wing. He'd always been fascinated by the wings of fliers, and the sensor wings of the grounded Praxians intrigued him just as much.

"Those feel _really_ good," Bluestreak grinned and wiggled his wings. "Really sensor heavy," he murmured as his fingers found, then traced the hexagonal scale over Idarassi's interfacing parts.

The wiggling seemed to attract the cautious hand to the appendages. Light clawtips skimmed over their surfaces, light enough to feel while keeping the sharp tips from causing any damage. Air gusted from Idarassi's vents in surprise at the touch to that large scale. It felt good, that touch.

Bluestreak moaned softly at the touch to his wings and stroked his fingers over the big scale once more.

Under Bluestreak's hand the scale quivered, then split in half and folded back, all but disappearing under Idarassi's plating, exposing the half-serpent's spike housing and the valve under it. A faint, nervous shiver ran through Idarassi's coils. Light fingers stroked over Bluestreak's wing again, claws ever so gently tracing the leading edges.

"It'll only feel good, I promise," Bluestreak murmured into another kiss before he wiggled his way down Idarassi's frame. With anticipation in his field he lowered his helm to kiss the spike housing.

A sharp gasp answered that move, a strong shiver running through the half-serpent's frame. Wide yellow optics stared down at Bluestreak in surprise. He had not expected that, or for it to feel that good.

A warm smiled beamed up at him before Bluestreak extended his glossa to trail a sensitive path around, and then across the housing, pausing to tease the tip of the spike inside.

Yellow optics flared brighter as totally new sensations ran through his sensor net. His coils twitched, scales ruffling slightly as he tried to process this new input. Never before had he ever felt anything like it. Trying to get his mental pedes back under him, Idarassi tried to say something, but all that came out was a garbled mass of syllables.

"Feels good, doesn't it," Bluestreak trilled happily, "Now you get why I enjoy it so much." With that he lowered his helm again to work his glossa around the spike housing, trying to coax it to come out.

"Sssstarting to get an idea of why," Idarassi managed to gasp out, unable to concentrate on keeping the hiss out of his speech. He squirmed slightly, though not hard enough to dislodge the Praxian. His claws scraped lightly against his own scales and the edge of the couch as he flailed a bit. "Ooh!"

Bluestreak's field flared with excitement when he heard the click of the housing unlock and gave a hard suck on it, trying to draw the spike out. 

Idarassi's frame shivered again as his spike finally slid out of hiding. It was patterned to match his scales, with almost delicate spots of color, and etched with a scale pattern. The half-serpent garbled something unintelligible, venting heavily as his spike disappeared into Bluestreak's mouth, the warm slickness sending an entirely new maelstrom of sensation through his frame.

A loop of coil curled around Bluestreak's midsection, Idarassi ruthlessly locking down his own strength to avoid hurting the smaller mech. He stared blindly at the ceiling, scales and plating puffed out, venting heat from every seam and air vent. A ripple ran through his body, his spike pressing deeper into Bluestreak's mouth. He hissed and cried out as his spike was worked by that mouth and glossa, until Bluestreak gently pulled his helm back.

"I want to ride you," Bluestreak moaned, his frame quivering in anticipation.

The half-serpent made a hissing whine as Bluestreak released his spike, blinking at the smaller mech. It took a moment for his scattered processor to comprehend what Bluestreak had said, then his field pulsed with cautious agreement. Strong coils loosened their grip on the young mech, allowing him to move.

With a shiver of excitement Bluestreak moved to straddle what passed for Idarassi's hips, really just the point where mech frame met serpent, and carefully lowered himself onto that unique looking spike.

Idarassi drew in a sharp breath as his spike slid into the wet heat of Bluestreak's valve. Clawed hands landed on the Praxian's hips, clawtips just lightly pricking at the delicate hip mechanisms. A shuddering, hissing cry was wrung from him at the feel of Bluestreak's valve against the sensitive length of his spike, his frame rippling, pressing his spike in deeper.

"Oh _yeah_ ," Bluestreak moaned, his wings fluttering in his pleasure. He rippled his valve along the length filling him, then lifted himself up until they were almost separated before sinking down again.

The feel of Bluestreak's valve rippling against his spike drew out a hissing moan and a blast of hot air. Idarassi's hands tightened on Bluestreak's hips, his fingers catching in the circuitry, though he retained just enough processor space to keep from clawing anything sensitive or delicate. There would be a few interesting scratches on the gyros and rotators, though. His frame rippled again, arching up to meet Bluestreak as the Praxian descended back onto the serpent-mech's spike.

"You got the idea," Bluestreak encouraged him before repeating the motion of lifting himself up.

Idarassi's field flared, trying to impress upon the smaller mech just how _good_ it felt. Settling into a rhythm took a little time and some effort to get his processor to cooperate, but finally he managed it, his long lower half rippling like waves across a body of liquid. At some point another coil of his frame curled around Bluestreak's midsection, over the big mech's hands, the end of his tail curling around the Praxian's thigh with the tip very close to Bluestreak's own spike housing.

"Oh!" Bluestreak gasped at being almost encased in his lover. "Oh _wow_." He quivered and flared his field as he picked up the pace, his pleasure hot and growing fast.

It took the half-serpent a klik to scrape up the coordination to match his pace to his partner's. Strong coils flexed around the smaller mech's frame, though never hard enough to actually cause any damage. His hands kneaded Bluestreak's hips, yellow optics flaring nearly white as charge began to nip and sizzle along his sensor net.

"I'm all yours," Bluestreak keened, his valve still working the spike sliding in and out but his frame going completely submissive, giving all control of the pace to his lover.

There was a bit of fumbling before Idarassi resumed his pace, his coils lifting and lowering the Praxian in time with each rippling thrust. Unwrapping from Bluestreak's thigh, the tip of the half-serpent's tail slid up to slide along the edge of one sensor wing, poking lightly and teasingly at the sensors. Charge continued to build, occasionally visible as a flicker of current running under patterned scales.

Bluestreak moaned and shivered, his pleasure and arousal pouring from him through his field to encourage the mecha thrusting into him. He'd never been restrained like this, almost as fully wrapped inside the mecha he was with as the spike was inside him. It felt insanely good. Not good enough that he'd overload before his lover, but oh, when Idarassi had a little endurance to him, this was going to be processor blowing.

The exploring tailtip continued to slide over Bluestreak's sensor wings, tip poking at every seam and sensor. Idarassi worked his fingers a little deeper into the smaller mech's hip joints, the tips of his claws brushing over the inner pivot points and gyros. Hot air almost blasted from the half-serpent's vents as he surrendered to the demands of his frame, picking up the pace.

"So good. You're so good," Bluestreak moaned, tightening the calipers in his valve rhythmically around that wonderful spike as it slid across sensors. "Want to feel your hot transfluid rush into me. Want to feel your overload," he encouraged.

Idarassi's entire frame stiffened, his back arching at an angle that would have damaged the spinal struts of an ordinary mecha. A hissing keen escaped as transfluid exploded from his spike into Bluestreak's valve. Charge raced over his frame, leaping from flared plate to flared scale, creating a netlike pattern of current along his tail. As soon as his frame unlocked, the half-serpent collapsed, his coils loosening their grip on Bluestreak.

"That felt so amazing," the Praxian shivered and leaned forward, his hands braced against Idarassi's lower chest as he began to roll his hips, seeking that last bit of stimulation he needed. As Idarassi recovered enough to watch, Bluestreak keened and stiffened, his valve tightening around the still-pressurized spike inside him while energy tore through his systems in a moment of pure bliss.

"I can ssssee why you're sssso fond of that," the half-serpent slurred, his hissing accent especially pronounced. His entire frame was practically completely limp. Slightly glazed yellow optics blinked at Bluestreak as the Praxian sank down from his overload to sprawl, strutless, on top of Idarassi.

"Good," Bluestreak purred, warm, content and still tingling. "So glad you enjoy this. I've never felt anything like being wrapped in your coils while you overloaded. That was _amazing_."

"It definitely dessservesss sssome more experimentation," Idarassi agreed. "Once I get my breath back, anyway..." He shifted his tail, scales rasping gently against Bluestreak's armor. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I wasn't sure if I was keeping from squeezing too hard."

"You did great," he patted the nearest bit of his lover. "Not hurt at all. Believe me, I'll squawk and fuss if you did. A little loving restraint can get me pretty hot," he babbled happily. "I like to tease my brother about it, but we do have that kink in common. He just likes it harsher than I do. But you ... _wow_ ... I mean, that was better than anything I've felt."

Idarassi let out a relieved x-vent. "At least I kept from hurting you. But then, I have more practice at controlling my own strength than I do at interfacing."

"It should be in the interfacing protocols too," he nuzzled lazily. "Keeping the important things under control when you can't think about it. You're really strong, but most mecha could really hurt a lover if they completely lost control when they overloaded. Mecha have been doing this for a long time. The protocols are well-developed to make it work out for everybody."

That got the half-serpent to relax completely, returning the nuzzle. One hand ran lightly over Bluestreak's back, between his sensor wings. "I had no idea there was that much to the protocols. I'm completely new at this."

"Nobody really thinks about it much, I don't think," Bluestreak purred and pressed into the touch. "But not many are so self-aware of how easily they can hurt others. I wouldn't know, but I get bored easily and started poking at the actual coding one orn."

Idarassi shuddered from helm to tailtip. "I'm only too aware of how easily I can hurt another mecha. When the ringmaster captured me I was trying to defend myself, and I ended up killing some of his trappers. It was... not pretty." Yellow optics dimmed. "I don't want to do that again, either deliberately or by accident."

"I hope you never have to make that choice again," Bluestreak hugged him. "I'm sorry you had to be captured, but it meant we met."

"And it means I'm now somewhere much better than I was before." Idarassi returned the hug with arms and a loop of tail.


	8. Breaking Into Hell

Idarassi had, for some reason known only to him, chosen to sleep in Bluestreak's room, loosely curled next to the young Praxian. It had become something of a habit. Bluestreak liked it when he didn't have other company. They'd both been deeply into recharge when something woke the serpent-mech. The instincts that had been programmed into him, that went with his animal appearance, were screaming at him that something was not right.

Sliding off the berth, Idarassi pressed his frame against the floor, glossa out and flicking.

There was a mecha moving through the home. Not one of the pedefalls he knew either. This one was moving slowly, carefully, not at all like Prowl or Darksky when they came home late at night.

Yellow optics narrowed. There was an intruder. In _his territory_. Venting a long, low hiss, he looked at Bluestreak, then slid quietly out of the room. His flickering glossa caught traces of a strange scent. Keeping low to the floor, Idarassi began moving, heading toward the lift to the lower level. It opened smoothly for him and took him down to the public rooms.

As soon as the lift opened Idarassi slid out and behind the first object large enough to use as cover. Flattering himself against the floor, he dimmed the glow of his optics, shifting fully to infra-red. Tasting the air, he set about tracking the intruder. To his senses, it was a simple process. The intruder was being silent, but did nothing to hide his heat or the vibrations that normal mecha could not pick up.

In the grand dining hall where Starbright held her balls, social dinners and galas, he saw a normal sized Praxian mech move about, carefully inspecting objects.

The half-serpent kept low to the floor, having long since figured out that staying below the average mecha's line-of-sight would allow him to go unnoticed just a little bit longer. His upper half hovering just high enough above the floor to keep his plating from scraping against it, Idarassi stalked the strange mech, sidling into striking distance. Every move was careful and precise.

His prey never noticed he was closing in.

Idarassi slowly circled around behind his prey, pulling in his tail and drawing up into a striking pose, ready to launch himself forward. He glared at the bright infrared shape of the strange mech, glossa poking out and flicking slowly.

A long, dangerous-sounding hiss echoed through the dining hall, the intruder's first warning that he wasn't as alone as he thought and the intruder jumped, reaching for a blaster as he twisted to face the sound.

The serpent-mech gave the intruder one brief instant to spot the silhouette and the glowing yellow optics glaring at him before launching himself forward, letting out a hissing shriek that was pretty much guaranteed to wake everyone else in the residence. Astonishingly fast for his size, Idarassi had his coils wrapped around the stranger before the intruder could get off more than two shots, leaving sear marks across patterned scales. A few nanokliks later, Idarassi had the intruder firmly in his grip, held tightly enough to keep him immobile but not actually damage him, glaring at him optic-to-optic.

He could taste the shock and fear in the intruder's scent, feel it in the field against his.

The first to arrive was the family cook, having the quarters closest to the hall. The mech had come running with a blaster in hand, but froze, uncertain how to take the sight of a mech he didn't know held tightly in the coils of a houseguest in the now well lit grand dining hall.

Prowl was the next to arrive, his sire only a step behind him.

The younger Praxian, his storm colored plating suiting his apparent mood well as he stalked forward. "And who might you be?"

The black mech managed a sneer at Prowl. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"He was sneaking around poking at things when I detected him," Idarassi reported, armor and scales puffed up, flexing his claws. He was using his intimidating appearance for all it was worth. His coils shifted slightly, bringing his captive closer to Prowl.

"Then we have you for breaking and entering, since you were not invited in," Prowl said calmly, blandly, as his sire watched with a glint of approval in his optics. "The Enforcers have been called. They will make sure you have nothing in your subspace or frame that doesn't belong there." His gaze shifted to Idarassi. "Good job noticing and capturing him."

"Being able to feel a mech walking has its advantages." Idarassi inclined his helm to Prowl, tightening his coils ever so slightly when Override opened his mouth to swear.

"Let _go_ of me!" The black Praxian tried to struggle but only managed to twitch, the one sensor wing not pinned by the half-serpent's coils flailing wildly.

"You are less likely to be injured if you remain still," Prowl observed mildly as he watched. "I am sure it does, as does your ability to move so quietly and well below optic level in the dark."

His words were interrupted by Bluestreak's rush to hug Idarassi. "You're a hero," he squealed. "I was so scared when I heard that sound and then you weren't there. I thought maybe you'd been hurt bad."

"I believe Idarassi is quite capable of defending himself," Prowl said with a touch of amusement.

Scowling, cursing his ill luck, Override subsided. There had to be some way out of this. He tried shifting his arms, only to feel raw power wrapped in metal scales pinning him in place. Yellow optics narrowed at him.

Ignoring the random wisps of smoke rising from one scale damaged by Override's blaster fire, Idarassi turned his attention to Bluestreak, returning the hug without shifting his grip on the intruder one micrometer. "I could sense him moving around... I wanted to get him before his attention went from objects to living mecha. He never saw me coming."

"That's amazing," Bluestreak babbled, grinning madly at his friend. "We've never had an intruder before. I'm so glad you got him before he did anything."

Prowl chuckled at his younger brother and turned to the lift. "I will see the Enforcers in when they arrive."

"I'm not letting go of this creep till they get here, stasis cuffs in hand," Idarassi called after him, getting an indignant squawk from his captive.

"Who do you think you're calling a 'creep'?" Override tried to glare, only to nearly shrink back at the narrow-opticked glare and the warning hiss aimed his way.

"You," Bluestreak answered for Idarassi. "You're the creep. You sneak into our house, try to take from us, and you got caught."

"What he said." Idarassi flicked his glossa out, getting a disgusted look from the captive mecha. "You picked the wrong home to break into, and you're going to pay the price for it."

A few kliks later Prowl arrived with two Enforcers in their classic black and white paint, mirrored visors and matching two-panel sensor wings. The pair visibly startled at how the intruder was being restrained but quickly got down to business.

Override snarled at the sight of the Enforcers, glaring hate at Idarassi. The serpent-mech only smirked at him.

"I don't think you'll be squirming out of this one, Override," one of the Enforcers smirked at him, then shifted his attention to Idarassi before glancing at Prowl. "If you'll tell him to let go, we'll take charge of the prisoner."

Prowl didn't bother to correct them. Legally, it was the correct procedure to have an owner give orders to a mechanimal or slave, or even a servant. "You can hand him over, Idarassi."

"Nope, he won't be squirming out of this," the half-serpent replied casually, shifting closer to the Enforcers and beginning to uncurl. He maintained his hold on Override's legs until the Enforcers had a firm hold of him and secured him with stasis cuffs, then proceeded to loosely loop two coils around Bluestreak and settle next to the youngest Praxian. Bluestreak purred and leaned in, affection and pride radiating from him.

"If you would detail what happened for the report," one Enforcer faced Idarassi. "We will need statements from each of you, if you would remain in the house."

"Of course, officer," Starbright inclined her helm politely before herding the three resident servants towards the kitchen to get refreshments for everyone.

The half-serpent nodded. "Of course, Officer." Easing closer to Bluestreak, he settled in to give his report.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors: gatekat, ultrarodimus, starshield on LJ
> 
> Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the [inspirations page](http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read. 
> 
> Praxian frame (with 3 of 3 wing panels) [Prowl](http://alteride.deviantart.com/art/Commission-Resonance-Prowl-254774764) and [Jazz](http://tench.deviantart.com/art/Commissions-06-287783868)  
> Idarassi: <http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s225/Primus001/Ida.jpg>  
> Lockjaw belongs to [Kusuriuri](http://www.furaffinity.net/user/kusuriuri)  
> <http://www.furaffinity.net/view/8571860/> and <http://www.furaffinity.net/view/6876228/>
> 
> nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years; 
> 
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter


End file.
